Salty Tears: The 116th Annual Hunger Games
by snowstar2
Summary: 24 tributes will go in, but only one will come out. This is the story of the 116th Annual Hunger Games.
1. Introduction

**Bald Capitol Dude**

I can't wait for the Hunger Games. My family and I love to watch the blood, gore, and death, especially my children. They are ages six, four, and one. As you can tell, I'm a fabulous parent.

* * *

 **Welcome to the 116th Annual Hunger Games! Many of you are readers of my previous story that was discontinued, but I promise you that this story is going to be seen through until the end. I hate it when stories are unfinished, and I'd never do that to you guys. So without further ado, here we go!**

* * *

 **To be honest, one of the hardest parts about last SYOT was coming up with the escorts, stylists, and mentors. So you guys will be submitting them this time! I'm looking for one escort, one stylist, and two mentors per district.**

 **The forms:**

 **Escorts** **:**

 **Name:**

 **Age:**

 **Gender:**

 **Appearance:**

 **Personality:**

 **District:**

 **Other:**

 **Stylist** **:**

 **Name:**

 **Age:**

 **Gender:**

 **Appearance:**

 **Personality:**

 **District:**

 **Dumb or Smart?: We all know those stylists that dress their tributes as coal. But then there's those like Cinna, who manage to make even dull things stunning. Is your stylist a dumb one that sticks to the usual outfits, or are they more creative? Your stylist is more likely to get accepted if they're dumb, to be honest. Chariot rides would be boring if all the stylists are amazing.**

 **Other:**

 **Mentors** **:**

 **Name:**

 **Age:**

 **Gender:**

 **Appearance:**

 **Personality:**

 **District:**

 **What Games they won?:**

 **Family:**

 **History:**

 **How they won their Games:**

 **Training Score:**

 **What they do now: Whether that's sitting around and drinking, sewing, or painting, I don't care. Every Victor has a passtime that keeps them sane.**

 **What they think of the Games?:**

* * *

 **The Tribute form:**

 **Just a note, I won't be doing first come first serve. Only the best will be accepted. Submit as many as you want, but a max of two tributes per person will be accepted.**

 _ **Name:**_

 _ **Age:**_

 _ **Gender:**_

 _ **District:**_

 _ **Appearance:**_

 _ **Personality:**_

 _ **History:**_

 _ **Family:**_

 _ **Reaped or Volunteered?:**_

 _ **Reaction to being Reaped/Reason for Volunteering:**_

 ** _Relationship with mentor:_**

 ** _Chariot outfit:_**

 ** _What they focus on during training:_**

 ** _Allies?:_**

 ** _Love interests?:_**

 ** _What they do during private sessions:_**

 ** _Training Score:_**

 ** _What they think of the Games:_**

 ** _Interview Angle:_**

 ** _Interview Outfit:_**

 ** _Their plan for the Games:_**

 ** _Bloodbath strategy:_**

 ** _Predicted placement:_**

 ** _Preferred death:_**

* * *

 **Thank you all, and happy submitting! I PROMISE this story will be completed.**


	2. Tribute List

**Bald Capitol Dude**

"Daddy, can we play Hunger Games outside?" asks little Rita.

"Yeah, I wanna STAB someone!" shouts Brayden maliciously.

"Goo goo ga ga," says baby Sophia.

"Sure kids!" I say, "Have fun!"

* * *

 **Here's the tribute list. It isn't first come first serve, but I'll add tributes that I know will be accepted on this list. If your tribute isn't on the list, it just means they haven't been accepted yet. I'll try to accept at least one tribute from each person. PM me with alliance suggestions once the Reapings start.**

* * *

 **District 1:**

 **(M) Nolan Bronze, CallmeLegend**

 **(F) Juliet "Jules" Mohr, Taylor1103**

 **District 2:**

 **(M) Cendko Pillars, GalacticCoach**

 **(F) Kiara Wong, Bookieworm04**

 **District 3:**

 **(M) Mugger Rootshorn, hollowman96**

 **(F) Moira Locke, hollowman96**

 **District 4:**

 **(M) Frank Tides, Adithya23**

 **(F) Lusitania "Lusi" Bream, tracelynn**

 **District 5:**

 **(M) Dorian Fritz, Namelessghoul**

 **(F) Sabrina Volta, Maitriix**

 **District 6:**

 **(M) Vaska Napier, Golden Moon Huntress**

 **(F) Venus Albryte, Golden Moon Huntress**

 **District 7:**

 **(M) Hideki Ora, SexyBonBon**

 **(F) Ivy de Lima,** **jds2416**

 **District 8:**

 **(M) Hudson Bernhagen, Taylor1103**

 **(F) Calico Damask, SilverflowerXRavenpaw**

 **District 9:**

 **(M) Matt Sickle, goldie031**

 **(F) Tessa Raeburn, goldie031**

 **District 10:**

 **(M) Chander Forrest, Bookieworm04**

 **(F) Catherine Hill, CallmeLegend**

 **District 11:**

 **(M) Darren Whitaker, Namelessghoul**

 **(F) Palata Browns, tracelynn**

 **District 12:**

 **(M) Gordon Matthew, Adithya23**

 **(F) Sunburn "Sunny" Cole, Red Roses1000**


	3. District Five Reapings

**District Five**

 **Escort: Sprite Werome**

 **Mentor #1: Jeremy Falkner, Victor of the 91st Annual Hunger Games**

 **Mentor #2: Helga Washton, Victor of the 77th Annual Hunger Games**

* * *

 **Sabrina Volta (16), District Five**

My brother and I grew up pretty close. Being twins helped us connect with each other like most siblings can't, and being opposite genders meant we could gossip about crushes without feeling embarrassed. I hooked him up on a fair amount of dates, and he did the same with me. Whenever boys tried to wrap me around their finger, Martin was always there to stop them. And whenever he came home heartbroken and sobbing, I would be there to dry his tears and tell him that life will go on, even if Susie Baker won't go out with him.

So on a day like today, we were both terrified of losing each other. What would the world be like without Martin? How could I ever go back to the way things were, if he was only a memory? Unlike most twins, we can't volunteer for each other. If one of us is Reaped, then they're going into the Games. End of story.

"Good morning Sabrina," whispers my mother, sitting down on my bed to help me braid my hair. She's wearing some of her nicest clothing from when she was young, but it's awfully tight on her now larger frame. I admire her bravery, though.

"Morning Ma," I say, glancing up as Martin enters the room. He's always been the goofy and more outgoing one, which gives me an excuse to be silent today. But it's hard to feel sad when Martin is in the room; it's as if he's constantly radiating cheerfulness and light.

"Ready for the Reaping, Little Sis?" he asks jokingly, referring to the fact that he's two minutes and thirty-three seconds older than me. Sometimes I think our parents are lying to us because I'm years older than Martin if you factor in maturity.

We all walk to the Reaping together, knowing very well that this could be the end. We might never see each other again. I'm just hoping the odds are in our favor like they are every year. Unfortunately, almost every kid in Panem is thinking the same thing right now, and someone has to get picked. The odds don't really matter when you realize that every kid has the same odds.

Poor Sprite. Escort Sprite Werome is different than most because she seems to dislike the Capitol's standards for her. She wears the grotesque clothing and undergoes the painful beauty regimens needed to be an escort, but she never seems to truly enjoy her job. The President must be starving her as well because Sprite is skinny enough to be mistaken as a toothpick. Her knees wobble weakly as she stands on stage, and her frame is very unproportionate in comparison to her massive, altered breasts.

"Hello District Five!" she calls with forced enthusiasm, "We're here today to conduct the most important ceremony in Panem history. The Reaping."

The crowd falls silent as the dreaded words are spoken. Even Sprite seems to darken up a bit after they echo throughout the town square, knowing that she's about to send two children to their deaths. Five hasn't had a Victor in twenty-five years when Jeremy Falkner won. Our only other living Victor is Helga Washton, who won almost forty years ago.

Basically, any child who gets Reaped has been given a death sentence.

* * *

 **Dorian Fritz (18), District Five**

"Maybe we'll luck out and watch you get Reaped today!" taunts my father, "I can't say I wouldn't enjoy it. After all, I have plenty of other boys to replace you with." He's sitting at our kitchen table, Peacekeeper boots propped up on the table. His white uniform is dotted with dried mud flakes, and his whole body reeks of tobacco and alcohol. Every time he laughs, his potbelly jiggles and sprays mud onto the floor, leaving my mother to dash over and sweep it up.

Basically, my father is a creepy, cheating, lying, flabby, alcoholic, drug addict, dirty, selfish, Peacekeeper general. He has ten other children with ten other women that we know of. But unlike most men that cheat on their wives, he's not afraid to brag. And my mother is too naive and kind to do anything about it.

A normal boy would tell the Peacekeepers, where they would most likely throw the father in jail. The districts may be trash, but the Capitol tries to stop violence and sexual abuse whenever they can. Otherwise, all their tributes would pregnant drunk addicts. But I am not a normal boy. My father is a Peacekeeper general, and he's not helping the district. So I take crime into my own hands.

You'd be surprised how much crime you can find after patrolling the streets for an hour. There's robberies, pickpockets, random shady men dragging women into alleys….. It's a scary world out there. My goal in life is to make the world a better and safe place for people, and I feel that I've accomplished that so far. At least once a month I'm dragging crooks to the jail building, where they're imprisoned by the lazy Peacekeepers of Five. I check on the jail every day, just in case one of them managed to escape.

But of course, no normal boy can hunt down criminals and fight bad people. I was trained by my father's best friend, Peacekeeper John. He and my father were playmates and neighbors as young boys, but one turned out well while the other turned rotten. John quit his job as a Peacekeeper after realizing things weren't ever going to change, and he now lives at the edge of District Five. Training me gave him closure that things could turn out okay after all.

I can't do it all alone, though. School friends help me raise money for the women my father has left so they can take care of their young children as single moms. There's only ten we know of, but I'm sure there's more out there somewhere.

Taking care of the district is my duty, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

* * *

 **Sabrina is tall for a girl at 5'6'', and has brown hair with light blue eyes. Dorian is 6'1'', has olive colored skin, and has short black hair. He always has a serious look on his face.**

 **All the escort positions are taken, as well as both District One mentors, both District Five mentors, and one District Seven mentor. We still need two mentors for all the other districts, as well as one stylist per district. I don't care how many you submit (Silver submitted all 12 escorts XD).**

 **Also, feel free to send in a second tribute if you've only sent one. I'm pretty much accepting anything at this point, so it can be a crappy bloodbath if you want.**


	4. District Two Reapings

**District Two**

 **Escort: Brindle Sol**

 **Mentor #1: Alexandria Paz, Victor of the 83rd Annual Hunger Games**

 **Mentor #2: Onyx Beryl, Victor of the 103rd Annual Hunger Games**

* * *

 **Kiara Wong (16), District 2**

"You just can't do anything right, can you Kiara?"

"You're worthless Kiara!"

"You should just go kill yourself, Kiara."

These words float around in my head as I sit against the bathroom wall. They were true. I really couldn't do anything right. I wasn't a Career because I didn't train at the academy. I wasn't a good student because I disliked studying. And to make matters worse, I tend to be socially awkward with my clumsiness. The bullies were right. I should die. I bet the world would be a better place without me.

I seriously consider doing it. The knife hovers above my wrist, but it never goes any further. I choke out my sobs, not caring whether anybody hears or not. The school is closed, so everyone's gone home. I'm all alone. I could do this right now, and nobody would even notice until morning came. Both my parents work the night shift, leaving my little sister all alone with our babysitter.

I…. Maybe I should listen to them. I'm worthless, insignificant, and I mean nothing to the world. But…. there's so much good left in life as well. I try to come up with one reason I shouldn't die right now... Kimora wouldn't have her playmate if I was gone. Yeah, that's a reason to stay!

My eight-year-old sister Kimora loved to play dress-up with me, and she'd be heartbroken if she discovered I was gone. I guess the bullies were wrong. I do serve a purpose in the world.

The next day we're preparing for the Reaping. My parents are home, both exhausted from a long night of work. They make good money, but sometimes I don't think it's worth it. The babysitter is gone, leaving me to dress my sister and do her hair. I decide to put Kimora in a lovely yellow dress, with her black hair braided back into a lovely yellow flower. When I'm finished, she looks adorable.

"Thank you Kiara!" she squeals, jumping around excitedly, "Why are we dressing up today?"

I gulp. Kimora is still too young to understand the real purpose of the Reaping. She thinks it's a big party, where we all dress up and stand in big lines in the town square… But that's what most of District Two thinks. We have volunteers every year, as well as more victors than any other district. No wonder Kimora thinks it's an honor to be called on stage.

Brindle Sol is a… weird woman. She's tall and thin, with striking blue eyes and gorgeous blonde hair. Her perfect figure, as a result of many surgeries, is the envy of most girls in the district. Unfortunately for them, there are no surgeons like that in Two. Brindle is also a ditz, and she seems to completely ignore the fact that kids will die in the arena. It's just a game for her.

"Time to pick the female tribute!" she calls, in her also perfect voice. Is every part of her body perfected with surgery? Isn't that bad for your health?

My hands tremble as she reaches into the jar to pull the slip. There's only a few that have my name on them, but she could very well grab it. We all have the same odds, after all. Hopefully, someone would volunteer, like they do every year. I could never go into the arena. It's just too….. crazy. Almost unreal. But then again, maybe it would be better if I just got picked to die. Then people could forget about me.

"Kiara Wong!" Brindle calls, looking up and expecting a volunteer.

"WAIT!" screams Irene, one of my main bullies. She also happens to be the mayor's daughter, meaning she has a large influence with the district. Unfortunately, she's also a lying brat that wants to volunteer for the Games this year. "Anyone that volunteers are DEAD, okay?" she snarls, "This is Kiara. She's worthless. Let her go die."

Wow. They're actually listening to her. My parents are crying, and my naive little sister is cheering because she thinks this is an honor, and the whole district is staring at me. It's like the world wants me to die. I should have just cut myself in the bathroom yesterday when I had the chance. At least then it would have been my choice, and not Irene's.

* * *

 **Cendko "Wraith" Pillars (18), District 2**

My left hand is gone. My knee has been replaced twice. There are scars covering the skin on my back, barely hidden by tattoos. And despite all these injuries, I'm still the chosen volunteer for District Two.

I like to think it's because I work hard. I have to put in twice the effort of all the other trainees, to keep my mangled body in shape. I've had to learn how to swim, climb, and maneuver with only one arm. Although archery is out of the question, I'm still decent with throwing knives. So really, I'm no different than the other Careers here.

But the facts of reality tell me that it's my father's influence. The instructors don't care about nasty sob stories about overcoming my difficulties. If it's me against another boy for victory, all rules of the academy are out the door. We'll be scrambling and punching and stabbing randomly, so it doesn't matter how good my form is with only one arm. Not all fights are fair. I'm still at a major disadvantage. I'm just lucky my father is a Peacekeeper general.

Despite the academy's reasons for choosing me, I'm still going to do my very best. After all, it's life or death in the arena. Although I don't particularly enjoy killing, I'm willing to do it for self-preservation.

"I'm very proud of you honey!" squeals my mother, clapping her hands joyfully as I walk down the stairs on Reaping day. The old Cendko would have laughed and jeered at the other Careers that weren't chosen, and maybe flexed a few times. But the new Cendko can see the world for what it really is. The Games aren't just entertainment. Real children die in there. Careers think they're invincible just because they've trained their entire lives, but my injuries have taught me that the world isn't fair. I once had it made, with my good looks and rich family. But one stupid mistake brought my world crashing down.

"I'm sure you'll do great, Son," my father bellows, "No son of mine could lose to those other district runts. You'll win and we'll be richer than before! Plus we'll have the whole district bowing down to us!"

"Cendko could be mayor one day!" my little sister Lina says excitedly.

"No, he'll be PRESIDENT!" hollers my younger brother Cid.

"You can do anything once you're a victor, sweetie," my mother coos, "Just win for us, okay? We know you can do it. The Careers will be bowing down to you like you're a god."

I'm silent throughout this entire conversation. There's no point in arguing. The Games are part of my life now, and there's no getting out of it. The new Cendko doesn't enjoy the Games, but my father still wants me to win even though I have a huge weakness. That doesn't bother me. He just wants me to be the best I can be.

All the other boys stare at me resentfully. A few of them jeeringly call out my nickname, "Wraith". I actually enjoy the nickname. It suits me. I'm a ghost of my former self.

The Reaping begins, and I simply ignore the crowd of glaring academy trainees. They're jealous, cocky, rich kids. They'd never win the Games because they're too arrogant and narrow-minded to realize even the simplest of things. The academy needs to start choosing people like me more often.

There's no need to analyze the female tribute. Irene is volunteering this year, and she's an open book. Cockiness and roasting comebacks are her specialty, and to make matters worse, she's the mayor's daughter. She has more influence over the district than me!

Unsurprisingly, Irene manages to stop the entire district from volunteering for a skinny, runty, non-academy girl. I'm shocked she didn't want to volunteer herself, but then again, she enjoys making other people's lives miserable. This poor girl doesn't stand a chance, and the whole district realizes it. Even some of the resentful boys are staring at me hopefully. They know I'm their only chance at victory.

"Time for the male tribute!" Brindle calls, smoothly and elegantly. The slip she plucks out is meaningless. We'll never even know who it belonged to.

"I volunteer as tribute!" I shout, waving my remaining arm around wildly. Brindle shoots me a shocked look, but I'm used to it. Kids in the arena will underestimate me just like this woman, and I'll surprise them. I'll surprise them big time.

* * *

 **1\. My grandfather has esophageal cancer. That's putting a lot of stress on him and my family, so updates will be a little slower until we know if he's getting better.**

 **2\. I hurt my neck. Apparently, I have a muscle spasm condition. It's extremely painful, and the only treatment is normal over the counter pain meds. So obviously I've been having a fun week.**

 **Anyways, here's your update. I typed it with my shoulders at a 45-degree angle, and there were a lot of random squeaks and screams escaping my mouth. I think I did Kiara and Cendko justice, but I'll let you decide. Cendko's POV is more detailed because I've written him before in my previous story.**

 **Please spread the word that we need more tributes and mentors. I'll add a list of escorts, stylists, and mentors on my profile as soon as I feel better.**

 **Kiara is 5'4'' with pale skin. She's very slim. She's of Asian descent, with brown hair that's kept in a ponytail and brown eyes. I'm gonna copy and paste Cendko's because it's so long and descriptive.**

" **Cendko might be one of the first career pioneers. He looks like a very formidable warrior until you notice his injuries. He is missing his left hand and has a limp when he walks. He was injured several times in a series of accidents before he volunteered. Other than that; black hair, a tan complexion, fairly tall, very fit, light brown eyes, and a look of determination. He also has many tattoos across is back and on his arms that have various different pictures and are all very well drawn. He definitely works out a lot, as he is pretty built. He has a square face with a strong jawline and is considered pretty handsome by many overall. Cendko looks like the type of guy that once had it made, but has slowly started to crumble due to his unfortunate luck."**


	5. District Twelve Reapings

**District Twelve**

 **Escort: Esther Tamen**

 **Mentor #1: Coal Wiseman, Victor of the 78th Annual Hunger Games**

 **Mentor #2: Mack Davis, Victor of the 76th Annual Hunger Games**

* * *

 **Sunburn "Sunny" Cole (15), District Twelve**

 _[Warning. Eating disorder]_

It started with a glance every now and then. Just a quick peek around the corner, or a giggle when he walked by my locker. Then it turned to full out crushing on him. I was constantly drooling or staring until even the other girls in my class started to notice. They would laugh and say I had no chance, but that didn't stop me. His eyes drew my heart closer, his golden hair made my stomach flutter… I was madly in love.

One day I finally summed up the courage to talk to the hot boy named Drew. It was in between classes, and I'd finally caught him alone. Usually, he was hanging out with his jock friends or flirting with other girls. But for once, he was all mine. I'd envisioned this moment for months. We would hold hands, he'd sweep me off my feet…. and our lips would meet under the silver glow of the moon. It was all planned out. It had to be destiny.

"Um…. who are you again?"

It's amazing how a single sentence can crush a heart. His words blasted my soul into oblivion. Nothing mattered anymore. I'd never meet another boy as handsome or perfect as he was. But no, this wasn't possible. Fate didn't change so abruptly. Someday he'd like me. There must be something wrong with me right now.

A quick glance in the mirror gave me all the answers I needed. My body was full of flaws, but all of them were fixable. I was fat, ugly, poor, and disgusting. My dirty blonde hair needs to be all blonde. I need to lose like fifty pounds. And I need a complete wardrobe change.

As much as I tried, it was too difficult to give up food. My body needed a certain amount each day, and pushing it under that amount was too hard. I found myself getting dizzy and tired all the time. So I snuck food throughout the day, and each time I hated myself for it. I hated myself for being so ugly. I hated myself for being so fat. Drew would never love an ogre like me. So all the food started coming back up. Every last scrap. I would be skinny, and Drew was bound to notice me for the beautiful girl I was to become.

I never got results. I consulted my mirror every hour, and my body was still riddled with flaws. Why weren't my remedies working? I dyed my hair a full blonde, and I'd been practically starving myself. I now only eat a few slices of bread and a piece of meat every day. Isn't that enough? I'll have to decrease my intake even more.

The world slowly begins to drift away. Nothing matters except capturing Drew's heart. For a full three years I try, but he never even glances my way. Not a single time. My body must not be ready yet. I won't approach him until it's perfect. Someday I have to be pretty enough. Someday I have to be skinny enough. Someday we'll have that destined kiss.

* * *

 **Gordon Matthew (14), District Twelve**

"Don't worry son. Only the poor children ever get Reaped for the Games. They take tons of tesserae, and there's so many of them that they outnumber the rich kids. You'll be fine."

Father tries to reassure me, and I listen like a good little boy. Everyone knows the Games are meant to punish the bad people in Panem. I'm a rich boy, the son of a rich couple. We obey all laws, and we never defy the Capitol in any way. My name probably isn't even in that jar. And even if it is, my father could probably buy me out of the Games if I got Reaped.

My father is the head of the District Twelve mines. He maps out all the new tunnels to be built, and he's in charge of executing the coal missions that supply the Capitol. It's a mentally straining job, but he'd much rather have this than a shitty job in the mines. I'm set to inherit his position when I turn nineteen, which is something to look forward to I guess.

"Well, are you ready sweetie?" my mother coos, holding out a brand new silk tuxedo, "Your grandmother found this in a Capitol catalog last week! Isn't it stunning? There's a little skid mark on the knee, but I ironed it out the best I could. I'll make sure to call the company and complain! You'd think a Capitol store would know how to properly ship their products!"

Soon I'm at the Reaping, dressed in my new clothing. I self-consciously fingered at the damaged cloth around the knee, cursing the company for their bad shipping. A rich boy like me shouldn't have to wear such flawed clothing. I have a status to live up to. People like me are expected to meet certain standards.

Esther Tamen walks up on stage, long dress flowing out behind her. She stands out with her dark skin, but Panem citizens aren't racists. In fact, dark skin like hers is starting to come back in style. Many Capitol citizens in the catalogs my mother reads have injections to make them black. Esther smiles at the whole district, and it's clear she enjoys being here.

"Sunburn Cole!" she cries out, holding the female slip high in the air. The district is confused for a moment, because nobody seems to know this person, but a girl is soon led on stage by the Peacekeepers. She's got a skeletal frame with blonde hair and gorgeous blue eyes. I've never really seen her around before, but I don't go to the normal Twelve schools. I'm taught by a private Capitol tutor.

My parents smile at me encouragingly from the crowd of adults and younger children. I know they'd never let me go into the Hunger Games. I'm safe, no matter what happens.

"Gordon Matthew!" Esther calls sweetly, beckoning me on stage. The whole district knows me by name, so it's no struggle at all for the Peacekeepers to locate me in the crowd. They nudge me delicately, knowing very well that my father could get them fired for hurting me.

It all feels a little surreal. I always assumed being rich gave me a free pass, but apparently, that's not the case. My parents are screaming my name, trying to assure me that I won't be taken from them. But it's a lost cause. I've been Reaped, and there's nothing they can do about it. The Capitol will take any child, rich or poor. That's what makes the Hunger Games so unpredictable.

But being rich has its perks. I'm sure to get plenty of sponsors gifts to help me on my path to victory. My parents can't stop me from going into the Games, but hopefully, they can get me out safely.

* * *

 **An update on my hectic life:**

 **So my grandfather definitely has cancer, and he's been going to the doctor every few days to get tests. They're currently discussing his best treatment options, and hopefully he'll be alright.**

 **My shoulder pain is finally at a functionable level after nearly a week of pain. It was enough to make me sob uncontrollably, and I'm a fourteen-year-old boy. I don't cry very often. So if anyone ever ends up with "torticollis", which only affects 200,000 people every year, then I have serious sympathy for you.**

 **Anyways, hopefully these two turned out alright. I don't have an eating disorder, and I'm not rich, so both of these characters required some creativity for me to write.**

 **I still need D7 and D11 stylists. Also for mentors, I need** **one D4, both 6's, one 7, both 8's, both 9's, both 10's, and both 11's.**

 **Sunny has long, dirty blonde hair and striking blue eyes. She has freckles, and a very pretty face. She's certainly NOT fat. In fact, she's dangerously skinny. Gordon is tall, has a thin frame, black hair, and black eyes.**


	6. District Three Reapings

**District Three**

 **Escort:** **Porcelain Mari**

 **Mentor #1: Lextra Diode, Victor of the 41st Annual Hunger Games**

 **Mentor #2: Wyatt Neti, Victor of the 82nd Annual Hunger Games**

* * *

 **Moira Locke (17), District Three**

The human body always manages to fascinate me. There are so many ligaments, tendons, and bones. Most people only memorize small sections, such as the wrist or knee. But not me. Knowledge of every single part of the body resides in my large brain. You may ask yourself, why would I memorize such useless information? Do I plan to be a doctor? The answer to that question is no.

I've only used my knowledge of the human body on one occasion. It was a few years ago when a few boys from my school decided they'd tease me. But two can play at that game. They were quick to lure in after a few sexual comments, and I managed to lead them into my basement like lambs before slaughter. The expected me to open up, but they were met with quite a nasty surprise. A lamp hit each of them in the back of the head, sending them sprawling to the concrete floor.

Then the real fun began. First I played with their blood, watching happily as it spurted from puncture wounds. Then I began to cut off sections of skin, delighted to find all the body parts that my textbooks illustrated. I was getting a firsthand look at the human body, and I just couldn't let it pass. They'd have to be dissected. But first…. It was time to play some more.

When they woke up a few hours later, they quickly realized what had happened. Blood covered the floor, and all they could see in the darkness was a pale girl carrying a bloody knife. The rest of the night was filled with their pitiful screams, and each one brought me incredible joy. I knew all the body parts that would cause them the most pain. A few days later, Peacekeepers found the corpses of three boys rotting in a dumpster. They never found out it was me.

Only one person knows about my fascination with the human body. My older sister Alyssa owns our house and is considered my caretaker by district standards. Our parents left us when we were very young, and our foster mother died just a few years ago. I guess I should be thankful that Alyssa is willing to let me live with her. She knows I'm a little weird, but luckily she doesn't know about the basement incident. Not that I'd care.

Most people in the district ignore me. One time, a little boy came up and asked why I was mute. He returned home with a bloody lip and crooked jaw, and he's lucky it wasn't worse. Technically I'm not mute, but sometimes I go weeks at a time without uttering a single word.

At school, I excel, mostly because I study non-stop. Intelligence is the greatest weapon in existence. I could kill everyone in my class if I wanted to. It's not that hard to make a bomb out of basic classroom materials.

One day, I'd like to be in the Hunger Games. Every year I watch with fascination as kids are sent to the arena to fight. Most of them go in somewhat sane, but it's fun to watch their progression into the world of insanity. In the real world, murderers are frowned upon. But in the Games, everyone must become a murderer to survive.

But my favorite part of the Hunger Games is what scares most people. It's the blood that fuels my desire to enter the Games. I rewind and watch some of the bloodiest moments in Hunger Games history without being fazed at all. Alyssa watches with me sometimes, but she cries. Unlike me, she's weak. She cries every time a District Three tribute dies.

Today is the Reaping, but I won't volunteer. I'm only seventeen. I'd much rather go next year when I've experienced more death and blood. The ability to kill is acquired with practice.

* * *

 **Mugger Rootshorn (17), District Three**

Nothing compares to Reaping day. I love to sit back and chillax while innocent girls get Reaped. It's even better to watch them die in the Games, murdered by Careers or other strong tributes. District Three hasn't had a victor in thirty-four years, so the tributes never come home. Sometimes I root for the boys if they look particularly strong, but most years I just don't care. One year a member of my band got Reaped. He was devoured by rabid dog mutts on day two. It didn't affect our success though, since he was only a backup singer. Those are easily replaced.

My band is called W.A.T.S which stands for 'women are too stupid'. As you can tell, I came up with that brilliant name myself. Me and my two buds, Mark and Dave, founded the band four years ago to bring women to their knees. Our extremely sexist music has caused controversy among my classmates, but usually they're too scared to do anything about it. One time a girl cussed me out during a concert, but I just slapped her in the face and watched as she cried. I got probation for two months, but it was totally worth it.

"YOU USELESS DOG! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO PUT THE CHEESE ON AFTER YOU COOK IT!"

"I'm sorry Mugger…. I'll try harder sweetie."

"YOU STUPID SLUT!"

"Please don't use that language around Rina, honey—"

"WHY? SHE'S A SLUT TOO!"

"Honey, please. She's only fourteen, and I don't want her to hear that foul language. Are you ready for the Reaping?"

"I would be if you GOT ME CLOTHES THAT ACTUALLY FIT! I'M A GROWING BOY!"

My mother hustles around and manages to find me some clothing that actually fits my flabby frame. I'm proud to admit that I'm fat. It means that I'm rich. Most kids in District Three are so skinny that they can hardly withstand a single punch. That's why we haven't had a victor in so long. It's also why I enjoy bullying kids so much.

The Reaping is beginning. I really hope my little sister gets Reaped. It'd be so fun to watch her die. She's useless, really. All girls are useless when you compare them to men. Women are meant to do the dirty work that men are too proud to do. Do you ever see a man scrubbing the floors or doing the dishes? NO! That's a woman's job.

My heart beats happily as I wait for the female name. Our escort, Porcelain Mari, walks over to the female bowl. She's a useless woman too. We see her crying in her post-Games interview every year, stating that her tributes deserved to win. Get over it. District Three kids are weak little runts that deserve to die, especially the girls. Also, Porcelain has dark skin. Seriously? It's ridiculous. Whoever named her Porcelain deserves to go die as well.

Some pale girl with lifeless eyes gets called on stage, and I'm disappointed. First of all, it wasn't my sister. Second of all, she looks like she could actually stand a chance. Maybe she's just acting tough.

"Mugger Rootshorn!"

Crap. Well at least I have a guaranteed victory. I strut on stage like I own the place, then steal the mic from Porcelain. "Yo District Three! Just wanted to give a shout out to all my fans, and my two bros Mark and Dave! There's no need to be worried, I would have volunteered anyway. You're looking at your next victor you little worms. It's time for a capable person to finally win for this stupid district."

After slamming the mic on the ground so hard it bursts everyone's ears, I'm satisfied. I meet Moira's eyes, sticking out my tongue at her. Her emotionless eyes stare back at mine, unfazed. I'll get to her eventually.

* * *

 **I really need more mentors guys. I need: One 4, both 6's, one 7, both 8's, both 9's, both 10's, and both 11's. Please don't make me come up with these myself.**

 **These were really hard to write for obvious reasons, so tell me how I did.**

 **I dared hollowman96 to make a character worse than Surge (a tribute in my previous story). They created Mugger. Do you think they succeeded? Let me know in the reviews!**

 **Moira is extremely pale, with grey eyes and light blonde hair. She wears glasses, and always has a deranged look on her face. Mugger is fat, short, has greasy black hair in a ponytail, pale skin marred with acne, cracked yellow teeth, a birthmark on his tongue, and a lazy eye.**


	7. District Four Reapings

**District Four**

 **Escort:** **Ivory Wilde**

 **Mentor #1: Darren Oceanus, Victor of the 107th Annual Hunger Games**

 **Mentor #2: Tilapia Mahi, Victor of the 113th Annual Hunger Games**

* * *

 **Lusitania "Lusi" Bream (18), District Four**

I've dived so many times that it comes naturally to me. I zip up the dive suit, strap on my flippers, and ensure that my BCD and regulator are hooked up correctly. My father helps me strap the tank to my back, and I do the same for him. Next is the dive knife, for emergencies only. Training at the academy means I'm familiar with blades, but using them underwater is a completely different story. Finally, I attach the snorkel to my face after one last huff of air.

We dive together, waving goodbye to my mother who runs the boat. She's never dived herself, instead choosing to let me have fun with my father. Deep down I think she's scared, but that won't stop me from admiring my mother. She was a few rankings away from being the chosen volunteer at age eighteen. It's hard not to be impressed, even if it's a little hard to believe.

My father and I flip on our dive lights, illuminating the dark water below. I remember being terrified during my first dive, but I'm quite used to the lack of vision by now. We swim downwards for about a minute until the mast comes in view. The wood is dark and rotting, but somehow stays attached to the boat. Father gives me a thumbs up, then begins to swim further while I try to identify the boat.

Thinking about dates and ship names is hard, especially on the day before the Reaping. I'm the chosen volunteer this year, even though I'm not real wild about going into the Hunger Games. My family has a history of going into the Games, on my mother's side of course. My father is a Capitolite.

Basically, my father came to District Four to earn his naval history degree. His research made him well-known in the Capitol, and he got paid large amounts of money to deliver priceless artifacts to museums across the country. He decided to stay in District Four when he met my mother, a more reserved woman that absolutely adored him. That resulted in me. Since my father is a Capitolite and my mother's family has a history of going in the Games, they're both pretty excited for me.

Crap, my mind is wandering again. I need to identify this ship before we go back home for today. The curved hull and darker wood tell me it's a more recent ship; probably in the last hundred years or so. There's no name on the side of the hull, which means it's most likely a pirate ship or a Wanderer ship. There was a ship that disappeared around eighty years ago with similar features as this artifact. It could only be the Sailor's Dream, a ship that was stolen from a Capitol family by a fleeing Wanderer. He died with the ship.

Later that day I head to the Academy for a final training session. District Four has a tradition of mentors speaking with the chosen trainees Reaping day. My mentor will be Tilapia Mahi, a girl that won a few years ago. She seems pretty chill, but I've never talked to her in person.

"So, you gonna win?" she asked.

"Yes," I replied confidently, "It's been my dream for as long as I can remember."

She rolled her eyes. "Dreams don't matter in the Games. I don't care if you have rich parents rooting for you back home. The Games are unpredictable and cruel, and if you let your guard down for an instant you'll be dead. And dead people don't win the Games."

I gulp. This lady makes it seem like the Games are bad. She was a Career, right? Why does she dislike me so much then? At least she's made one thing clear.

Winning the Games won't be easy.

* * *

 **Frank Tides (18), District Four**

"So you'll be over for the party?" I ask hopefully.

"Yes, Frankie. I'll be there," she says, laughing.

I have the best girlfriend in the whole wide world. My lips curve up in a smile, and I hang up just as my mother rushes into the room. Her hair is currently a deep blue, but it'll probably be a different color by next week. My father jokes that she has the fashion sense of a Capitolite, but I try not to tease her about it. I don't mind if people express themselves.

"Mom, is all the food ready for tonight?"

"Yes, sweetie. Your father just went to pick up some fresh fish. Could you and Jason grab some paper plates and napkins on your way home from the Reaping?"

"Sure Mom."

The Games are a big deal in our household. My parents are huge fans, but they warn my little brother and me never to volunteer. My father was an academy trainee, but he never volunteered for obvious reasons. The Capitol tries to brainwash these kids into thinking they're invincible, but they don't realize that there's six Careers and only one victor. Not to mention, there are eighteen other outliers just as desperate to survive. Training for your whole life doesn't give you a free ticket out of the arena.

Both of my parents agreed that Jason and I should be enrolled in the academy courses since there's always a small chance of getting reaped. We're certainly rich enough to pay for the pricey classes. My father takes care of the survival aspects of the Games since that's his specialty. He's taught my brother and me how to build fire, identify plants, and build shelters. His lessons have taught me that the Games aren't about swinging a weapon around blindly. Surviving in the harsh wilderness could be just as important.

Sienna approaches me minutes before the Reaping begins, tears welling up in her eyes. We embrace and lock lips, much to the disgust of Jason. He makes barfing sounds as we make out, but I simply tune it out to enjoy her presence.

"What if you're Reaped?" Sienna sobs, wrapping her arms around my neck.

"Sienna, I'll be fine, alright? Go stand in line, and I'll talk to you at the party. Just stay calm and take deep breaths."

With a sigh, my girlfriend makes her way to the eighteen-year-old girl section. I push Jason over to the fourteen-year-old line, before walking over to chat with a few of my buddies. They're all boasting about volunteering, but I doubt they'll be quick enough. Four tends to have a lot of quick volunteers, boys especially. Last year two boys volunteered at the same time, and neither of them would step down. A bloody fight ensued, resulting in some nasty wounds on both sides. The loser was sent to the hospital, while the winner staggered on stage victoriously. Unfortunately, that boy died on day two when the other Careers got sick of his constant bragging.

Ivory Forde, our escort, does a frontflip before standing on stage. His skin is a light brown, not particularly light or dark. He's wearing dark crimson clothing to represent blood, since he's probably the biggest Hunger Games fan around.

"Hellooooooooo District Four!" he yells, causing the microphone to screech horribly. I grimace, wishing he'd stop trying to act so crazy all the time.

The Reaping begins with the ladies, as usual. A muscular girl volunteers and walks on stage confidently. I recognize her as Lusi, this year's chosen volunteer. After commenting on how much he enjoys volunteers, Ivory picks the male slip.

"JASON TIDES! Do we have any volunteers?"

Nobody steps on stage. My heart thumps in my chest as I look around, realizing that all the boys my age are staring at me. All my friends know how hard I train every day, so they clearly expect me to volunteer in my brother's place. I guess I have to since nobody else is doing it. I DON'T want to volunteer at all, but my brother doesn't stand a chance against the stronger Careers. He's fourteen for crying out loud.

"I volunteer as tribute!" I shout. Jason looks shocked, while Sienna screams my name over and over. Both my parents seem to be in shock, but I ignore all my loved ones. It's time to win the Hunger Games.

* * *

 **Sorry for the wait everyone. Life has been busy. Updates should be much faster near the end of May, but for now I have to study for finals and state testing. I'll aim for weekly updates, but it might be more like every two weeks.**

 **Lusi's appearance was long, so here it is: "Lusitania is two thirds Brazilian and one third Eastern European. She looks more Brazilian, however. She's tall, around six feet, and she has long darker brown hair that she usually wears down, bright green eyes, and darker tan skin. She likes to wear casual workout clothing most of the time, and she always has a swimsuit on hand. She wears little makeup usually; the stuff she does wear is just water resistant mascara and sometimes some concealer. She's rather beautiful but doesn't flaunt it much." Frank has bronze hair, sky blue eyes, and is well built and tall.**

 **I still need: Both 6's, one 7, both 8's, both 9's, both 10's, and both 11's. I'm ALMOST positive someone submitted some more of these, but I'm not sure. Please tell me in the reviews if you've already submitted one of these please. Also, please PM me if you want to submit a mentor BEFORE filling out the form, so I can tell you which slots are open. I don't want to accidentally get repeats.**

 **Until next time, adios. Please drop a review if you have time.**


	8. District Ten Reapings

**District Ten**

 **Escort: Boqua Lier**

 **Mentor #1:** **Samuel Pollock, Victor of the 79th Annual Hunger Games**

 **Mentor #2: Marshall Yablonski, Victor of the 101st Annual Hunger Games**

* * *

 **Catherine Hill (12), District Ten**

For my whole life, we've never had to fear Reaping day. We simply got up, fed the sheep, ate a good breakfast, and stood in the Town Square for a few hours. No biggie. Then my four younger siblings and I would throw mud and run around like hooligans all day long. At dusk, Mother would call us to the side of the house and wash us in a large storage bin filled with ice cold water from the hose. We were poor but always managed to have fun.

Today, things are much different. We still have to feed the sheep with Father. We still have to eat some eggs and bacon for breakfast. And we still have to stand in the Town Square for a few hours. But today, something has changed. This year I'm eligible for the Reaping.

"Cathy, make sure you sign in!" Mother says, pointing to the sign-in desk. She then rushes over to catch little Jess, who's run off after a dragonfly. Mattie and Hammond chase after them with a squeal, while Joesph watches with a mischievous glint in his eyes. My family may be a little chaotic, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

"Let me see your hand, Miss," orders the Peacekeeper. I look nervously at Father, but he beckons for me to comply. I'm always scared to trust Peacekeepers since Father hates them so much. Whenever they come to collect our taxes, Father rushes inside, cursing up a storm. It's scary for us kids when Father acts that way, but I just lead my siblings outside and we begin to play. I'm the oldest child, so it's my job to keep my brothers and sisters safe.

My hand shakes as I stretch it towards the Peacekeeper. A white-gloved hand snatches my wrist, dragging me closer to him. I can smell his rancid breath and see his tobacco-stained teeth, so I close my eyes and breathe through my mouth. A squeal escapes my lips as the pokey thing jams into my finger, but the pain is soon gone.

"I did it, Daddy!" I squeal, kicking my cowgirl boots through the mud. They were a gift from Grandpappy before he went to heaven.

"You sure did, Cathy," Father says, smiling and enveloping my tiny hand in his large one, "Now hurry up, go find your friends! The Reaping will start soon." His eyes darken as he says this, but I simply ignore it. What's he worried about? I think my name is only in the bowl one time. One measly slip won't get me killed. I feel much worse for the kids that took tesserae. I tried to take tesserae, but Father said it was bad. He knows what's best for me, so I just threw the form in the trash can like a good little girl and went on my merry way.

A tall, thin man introduces himself as Boqua Lier. He scares me, so I cover my eyes with my hands and watch through a little peep-hole. I can tell he's very pale, like the vampires in the books Mother reads us before bed. Although his tall, imposing exterior makes him look uninviting, his warm smile says otherwise.

"Time to chose the girl tribute!" he says, making his way to the first bowl. I close my eyes and take deep breaths, just like Father told me to. He said it'd be scary for a moment, but then it would pass. One time Joseph fell off the fence and twisted his shoulder real bad. Father said it was dis...dislok...disloakated or something. But he told Joseph the same thing, that it would hurt for a moment and get better. And he was right. Joseph cried for about ten seconds, but then his shoulder was good as new. That's what I'm trying to do now; remain calm.

"Catherine Hill!" Boqua says cheerily.

Tears leak out of my eyes as I clutch my friends' hands. They're all crying and calling my name, sobbing for the escort to choose a different slip. But I'm not crying because of them. I'm not crying because I got Reaped.

I'm crying because Father is crying. And I've never seen him cry before.

* * *

 **Chander Forrest (12), District Ten**

"Chander Forrest!" calls Boqua.

Heart racing, I attempt to wheel my way out of the Town Square. My puny little arms are littered with cuts from the jagged metal of the makeshift wheelchair that my dad crafted for me, but I ignore the stinging. My life is on the line. We all know a crippled boy from Ten can't win the Games, so my only chance is to barrel down the fence surrounding the district and wheel my way into the forest. Unlikely, but it's my only chance.

The Peacekeepers reach me first. One slams his gun into the scratched tire, deflating it instantly and causing my chair to sag towards the right. I veer uncontrollably and crash into a wall, screaming in frustration and surprise. The soldiers are on me in an instant, picking up my wheelchair, with me still in it, and walking towards the stage. Everyone stares at me with pity, but I can hardly see them through tears.

What did I do to deserve this? One month ago my leg was crushed by a flailing horse, and the doctors told me I'd never walk again. Even my twin sister Shanel hasn't been able to cheer me up, and we're usually inseparable. Then I had to go and get Reaped. It's like the world suddenly hates me.

Catherine and I are in the same class at school, so we hold hands nervously as Boqua cheers our names to the crowd. He seems pretty nice if you can ignore his scary appearance. He hands Catherine and me a piece of candy, which we unwrap gratefully. Candy is a luxury in such a poor district, and I've only had it a few times in my short life. My short life that's about to end….

Mommy, Daddy, and Shanel rush into the room, sobbing their eyes out. That just makes me sob as well, and we all collapse in a heap on the ground. I don't care that my leg is throbbing without the cushion of the wheelchair. All that matters is savoring these last moment with my family.

"Promise us you'll try to come home!" sniffles Shanel, "Okay? I couldn't live without you! You're my twin!"

"Honey, we know you'll do fine!" Mommy chokes, fussing with my curly auburn hair that never seems to lie flat. But it sounds like she's reassuring herself, not me.

Mommy and Shanel begin to cry and scream, so the Peacekeepers have to take them out of the room. I'm sad, but they're kind of making me even more depressed. Daddy is a lot calmer than those two, even though I can see tears sparkling in his eyes as well. I know he'll be able to comfort me. He's always been more of a realist, not a worrier.

"Listen Chander…..let's be practical. You stand no chance without reliable allies that can help you through the Games."

"I know Daddy. But who'd want to help me?"

"That's for you to figure out, but stay away from people like Catherine. They'll only drag you down. Try to find some big strong boys and girls from the richer districts, like Seven and Five. They're more likely to help you, okay? Just stay strong."

My father's words comfort me in a strange way. I'm still nervous as hell, but having his honest view of the situation really helps me keep my mind on what's really important. I have no time for wallowing around in grief. If I want any chance of coming home, I have to stand up and defend myself. And that means finding allies.

* * *

 **Sorry again for the late update. Last week was kind of crazy. I had to give a presentation in front of 300+ people, which was fun. Notice the sarcasm.**

 **Catherine is 5 feet tall and has brown eyes and blonde hair. Chander is 4'11'', scrawny, and has tan skin with curly auburn hair. Brown eyes. He's also in a wheelchair, obviously. These two literally broke my heart.**

 **For mentors, I believe I have the following: One 6, one 8, both 9's, and both 11's. Please submit these so I don't have to come up with them myself.**

 **Until next time~**

 **-Snowy**


	9. District Seven Reapings

**District Seven**

 **Escort:** **Moire Kniack**

 **Mentor #1: Tomer Dabney, Victor of the 104th Annual Hunger Games**

 **Mentor #2: Jessica Wilds, Victor of the 105th Annual Hunger Games**

* * *

 **Ivy de Lima (16), District Seven**

I used to be an average, ordinary girl. Here in District Seven, we're told constantly that we'll never amount to anything in life. We're all destined to be lumberjacks or factory workers, and all but a select few go on to do just that. That lucky handful of people move to the Capitol to be luxury furniture designers where they usually become rich and famous. All the Capitol freaks love district-made pieces and tend to pay outrageously high prices at auctions.

Although this sounds appealing, I know it's not my destiny to be a woodworker. I'm just not patient enough to sit around and carve trees all day. My mother discovered this when I was a little girl. Turns out it's extremely difficult to get a hyper eight-year-old to sit at a table and cut a slab of oak all day. The factory folk handed me polish, saws, axes….but I never really caught on. I wanted to feel the open air as I run across a vast meadow. I wanted to explore the world and see things through a free girl's eyes.

But right now I'm a caged tiger. And you can't keep a caged tiger in a fence for long.

I don't deserve my mother's tender love and care. She's a simple widow that only wants to make a living. She never did anything to deserve this. She didn't deserve to lose my father. Sometimes I still blame myself for it, even though she's told me countless times it was a tragic accident. But I'll never forget that day when I begged my father to get me a piece of wood from a beautiful spruce tree. I wanted to make a shelf out of it to set my rock collection on. He went off that day to cut down my special tree….and it crushed him. Quite literally.

You'd think that after an event so traumatizing the world would be done with us. Whatever we did to offend the higher powers above should have been forgiven. But bad things continued to happen.

His name is Jake Thomson. Two years ago he proclaimed his love for me, and apparently expected Ivy de Lima, fiercest girl in the district, to have sex with him. I refused of course, but I didn't exactly foresee his buddies jumping out of the shadows and pinning me against the wall. Let's just say it got a little ugly after that. We tried to file charges, but the courts are shit here in Seven.

So here I am. Half-orphan, sexual assault victim, and now a tribute. I was shocked of course, but I was bound to get picked eventually. The world has clearly been against me since birth. In a way, I'm glad, since I never really fit in with my peers. The Games will give me a chance to show the world who I really am. And maybe I can finally show Jake Thomson who he's messing with. I bet he'll regret banging me when I win the Games and send him off to be Avoxed. I heard Victors can do pretty much anything they want, after all.

"Promise me you'll be careful," whispers my mother, "Don't be rash, my little Ivy. Stay logical and keep your faith. I know God will bring you back to me."

Yeah right. He's helped us loads so far.

"Yeah, yeah. Okay, Mom. Just don't touch my rock collection. And don't clean my room. I like everything the way it is."

She smiles. "That's my girl. Now go win."

* * *

 **Hideki Ora (15), District Seven**

Moire Kniack is quite an annoying woman. She's so peppy and cheery that it's unbearable, even for me. And that's saying something since I'm considered the jokester of my grade. But unlike Moire, everyone seems to get along with me. Her body is relatively average except for her long, slender legs that are sure to catch the eye of any man. Strategically cut on her dress is a long slit that runs from her upper thigh to the floor, exposing the tan skin of her gorgeous legs.

"Time to see your district families!" the escort squeals. I simply give Moire an eye roll before slipping silently into my farewell room. I'm dreading my goodbyes more than the Games themselves.

"HONEY!" wails my mother, throwing her arms around my neck. She kisses my cheek desperately, sobbing and wailing like a constipated hippo. Not that I've ever met a constipated hippo, I just read that joke in a book once. I stare at my father awkwardly, hoping he'll comfort me more than her.

A calloused hand grips my shoulder tightly, and my father wraps me silently into a hug. Always stoic, he doesn't even utter a word. Just his intimidating presence brings me more comfort than my mother ever could. I can always depend on my father to get me back on track after a rough day.

As the seconds fly by, I begin to panic more and more. It was easy to walk on stage with feigned confidence, even though I was unnaturally silent for someone of my stereotype. I'm sure my friends from school were shocked to see me shut my yapper for a full five minutes while Moire conducted the Reaping rituals and customs. But now that I'm alone with my family, it's getting harder to keep my composure. People like me never win the Games. The jokesters are fun while they last, but I don't possess any skills that will benefit me in the arena. I could try to make a ton of allies, but the social kids are always ratted out by the smart ones in the end.

So why even try?

I think it's curiosity that's keeping me from flipping out. I've spent my whole life being sheltered by my loving parents, oblivious to the horrors of the world until I'm thrust into them head on. There's so much to see and learn before I die. Even if I never get to become a lumberjack or start a family, I know there's plenty of things to accomplish in the next few weeks. For example, I could learn how to start a fire. Or learn how to swim. Maybe I'll make some new friends.

These are the thoughts that flow through my head as I say my final goodbyes to my parents. My loving mother and strict father mean a lot to me, and I know I mean a lot to them. But now my time in this world is almost up. It's time to soothe their conscience.

"Mom. Dad," I say, "Don't worry about me."

Neither of them says a word.

"Just have another kid and retire," I continue, "But don't ever tell them about me."

Most people wouldn't understand my intentions. After all, who would want to be forgotten? Why shouldn't my future sibling remember me? The answer is simple. I don't want to burden them with thoughts of their deceased brother. My life will be over soon, but theirs will be just beginning.

But I'm not giving up quite yet. I'm going out with a bang.

* * *

 **Hey guys! Exams have literally crushed me to the ground, beaten me with a metal bat, and grinded me with a chainsaw. These past weeks have sucked, but luckily my last day is the 23rd. After that I should be able to finally finish up the Reapings (updates will be much faster after that).**

 **I wrote Ivy's last night, and I think it turned out pretty good. Hideki's on the other hand turned out horrible, so I apologize to his submitter. I'll try to portray him better during training since it's not fair to you that his section sucks. But for the time being it should give you a general idea of his personality. I just had literally zero desire to write when I did his section, but I knew I needed to post an update.**

 **I think these chapters are getting progressively worse and worse, but I promise quality will improve next update when I'm out of school. Gosh I can't wait.**

 **I need one 6, both 8's, both 9's, and one 11. It's looking like I'll have to make the rest of the mentors myself, but I'll still hold hope. Please submit one if you have extra time here and there. I'd really appreciate it.**

 **(Copy and pasted both appearances because I'm lazy today)** **Ivy has straight, black hair, which reaches to her shoulders. It's sleek and swings around when she moves her head. She has olive skin, which is smooth, with a smattering of freckles across her nose. She is of asian heritage, though she is mixed, with almond eyes, mono-lids, and thin pale lips. She is about five foot four and slender with some muscle to her build. Hideki is a short boy with messy, dark blonde hair (it is later cut into an undercut). He has large, hazel eyes, freckled skin, and a toothy grin. He looks far younger than his years, about thirteen and is toned.**


	10. District Nine Reapings

**District Nine**

 **Escort: Heather Pirch**

 **Mentor #1: TBD**

 **Mentor #2: TBD**

* * *

 **Pilate Avery (18), District Nine**

Before the little incident about a hundred years ago, our two gangs used to get along. The Reds and the Blues worked together to stop the ever-persistent Greens from gaining control of our land. We succeeded, too. The Greens were abolished once and for all, and we lived in harmony for about a year and a half. Then the leader of the Reds decided to volunteer for the Hunger Games to bring her gang above all others in the district, including us. The leader of the Blues couldn't have that. He volunteered as well.

The rest is history.

Long story short, the Blue leader killed the Red leader on day two in a fierce battle to the death. He eventually died as well, after making it to around the final five. Our two gangs have been feuding ever since, and it's showed no signs of stopping.

It started out as a full-scale war. It didn't matter if you were nine or ninety. Everyone was forced to choose a side. Eventually, the Peacekeepers had to break us apart, but we all know the Blue gang won. We've always been stronger. Now, almost a hundred years later, we're still stronger than our opponents in battle. All but the Reds and Blues have been destroyed, and I've risen to lead our gang against all odds. I now lead about three hundred loyal soldiers with about a hundred more retired gang members or newbies under my wing. But it wasn't easy.

Being an orphan, I was able to devote all my time and energy into becoming the leader. Nothing could stand in my way, even the seven-foot tall boy that tried to kill me in my sleep. He ended up dead, five knives through his heart before he knew what hit him. Seven people have tried to take me off my throne since that attempted murder. Let's just say seven bodies have ended up pinned to the Justice Building with my initials carved in their skulls.

We don't kill unless absolutely necessary. We're not savages like in the movies. Instead, the Reds and Blues exchange prisoners and capture higher officials from our respective opposing gang. It's basically a raging war of stealth and trickery, which is the only reason the Reds have evaded us for so long. We'd beat them in days if it was a physical fight.

Someday we'll capture Matt Sickle, leader of the Reds. We've had him in our grasp countless times, but his loyal sidekick has always managed to wiggle through our defenses and free him before he could be executed. Janai is one of the only people I wouldn't mind killing. She's smart and would be a deadly leader if Matt ever dies.

Today our war is put on pause. Usually, the Peacekeepers try not to interfere with our quarrels, but on Reaping Day they have to enforce the district laws or risk being Avoxed. All of Panem will be watching us today, and the Nine Peacekeepers expect us to act like perfect citizens. We're all happy to comply if it means we can keep fighting the very next day.

"Get out of my way, pipsqueak!" I snarl at a little eleven-year-old boy. I'm not a jerk or anything; he's just wearing a red bandana around his arm. A Red trainee. I despise them more than normal Red gang members since they're not training to be a Blue instead.

"I don't have to do what you say!" he cries bravely, obviously unaware of my status. He's naive and overconfident, which are two skills you shouldn't have around me.

"Watch what you say, Boy," I snarl, flicking out a knife, "You have no idea who you're messing with." I flash my blue bandana which is embroidered with a gold star.

Now he knows who I am. With a squeal of shock and terror, he screams, "Avery!" and runs away. What an idiot.

* * *

 **Matt Sickle (17), District Nine**

Standing alone with Janai is one of my favorite pastimes. She begins to update me on our scouts' most recent patrols, and I listen with interest. It's always concerning to hear news on Blue's advancement, but as leader of the Reds, it's my job to stay up to date and prepared to deal with any issue that comes our way. I wouldn't put it past Avery to attack us on Reaping day, even though she knows the rules.

"Matt!" wails one of the new recruits. I believe his name is Tim.

"What is it, rookie?" I ask, annoyance slipping into my voice unintentionally. I don't usually speak rudely to my soldiers, but I hate getting interrupted when I'm talking business with my second in command. Especially since it's probably just a squabble between newbies.

"Avery!" the boy whispers, eyes widened in wonder, "I actually saw Avery! She was standing right in front of me! She pulled out a knife and threatened me and stuff…. I have to tell David! He's never gonna believe it!"

Rolling our eyes, Janai and I watch as the boy scurries away to find his friends and brag. It's not a rare occurrence for Avery to threaten our troops. In fact, she does it pretty regularly. It's just amusing since I was like that myself only a few years ago. I joined the gang training program when I was ten after my father insisted I begin training right away. He was a loyal soldier for years until his bad back forced him to quit. He actually almost got elected leader. My mother couldn't care less as long as nobody gets killed. She wasn't exactly delighted to discover I was the leader of a gang, but Father's excitement won her over.

Red leaders are chosen in a much….. more humane way than the Blues. We elect our leaders democratically, like civilized beings. I've heard Blues rise to leadership through assassinations and killings, which absolutely disgusts me. I respect Avery as a person, but her crimes will forever create a rift between our gangs.

Heather Pirch is a fairly regular escort. She's got dark skin and wears refined, "old fashioned" dresses and gloves. Her accent isn't like most Capitolites. She clicks her way on stage and curtsies to the crowd like a true lady. Janai snorts.

"Helloooooo!" cries, Heather. After a lengthy introduction I'm surprised she even memorized, she proceeds to pull the girl slip. "Pilate Avery!"

Before shock even registers on my face, Avery is stomping on stage towards Heather. Anyone from District Nine would know never to call Avery by her first name. I know her more personally than most, so I have insider knowledge that Avery is actually her middle name. Her last name was dropped when she became an orphan. But her first name "Pilate" is her weak spot, and even I wouldn't dare to call her it. Peacekeepers are forced to restrain her on stage while Heather squeals in an unladylike fashion and pulls the male slip.

"Matt Sickle!" she sobs, throwing the slip on the ground and hurrying into the Justice Building. Avery forgets about Heather and starts trying to claw her way towards me, causing Janai to step in front of me defensively. But I push my deputy away with a grin and make my way on stage, slightly amused. What are the odds that we'd get Reaped together?

This is going to be an interesting Games.

* * *

 **I had a little extra time tonight, so I went ahead and typed this out as well in case I get delayed again for some reason. So consider yourselves lucky! And be proud of me! Remember, we still need mentors. Look at the previous chapter note for mentor slots that are still open. :D**

 **These two are super complex, so you'll see a lot more of them in future chapters. Trust me, I've only scratched the surface in order to portray their history and a snip of their personality. But they're actually deep and well-thought out characters that were hard to show in such short POV's.**

 **(Copy and pasting again)** **Avery has long brown hair that she always wears in double braids with a blue hairband around them and light gray eyes. She also always has a blue bandana around her head, kind of like a headband. Her skin is very pale, and she's quite short and skinny. Matt has spiky, dirty blonde hair and hazel eyes. He's tall and a bit underweight, though with a good amount of muscle. He has pretty high cheekbones and a smallish nose, and has two or three freckles on each of his tannish cheeks (his whole body is tannish too). You would be hard-pressed to find Matt without a bright red bandana tied around its forehead regardless of what he's wearing, which is normally a t-shirt and jeans.**


	11. District One Reapings

**District One**

 **Escort: Teal Raffe**

 **Mentor #1: Beck Mohr, Victor of the 90th Hunger Games**

 **Mentor #2: Astoria Mohr-Gallerman, Victor of the 112th Hunger Games**

* * *

 **Juliet "Jules" Mohr (17), District One**

The last day of training is always awkward. It's no surprise to see my father and sister standing behind the large oak door of the Meeting Room, but I hate seeing four other girls staring my way, smirking maliciously. Everyone at the Academy teases that I get special treatment, but that's not true at all. They're all eighteen, so I don't expect to be chosen this year. I've been training harder than anyone else in my year, but not for the reason most people expect. My father and sister are both Victors, and somehow can't even notice me. My brother, who's a year younger than me, steals all the attention. If I win the Games and join the family as a fellow Victor, they're bound to start taking me seriously. And I certainly won't be chosen because of my family's influence. In fact, sometimes they forget I'm even training.

"Hello ladies," says my father, who's the lead Academy instructor. Astoria is his trusted assistant. They clearly won't be giving me any special treatment. Astoria picks up a stack of files and they begin to read through them, reciting test scores, favored weapons, and mentality records. The records go back to when we first started training, which was years ago for me. I only have one red dot on my record, which was when I tried liquor at age fifteen with a few friends. It was all an act to get noticed, but obviously, it didn't work.

First, they eliminate Sarah. She's a party girl, which has scarred her record beyond repair. She runs out of the room sobbing, and my dad simply rolls his eyes. Astoria and I never acted like normal teenage girls, so he's never been exposed to the crying and sobbing that are common occurrences with most girls.

Now it's just Tiffany, Becky, Livia, and I. My only real competition is Tiffany, who's the most skilled swordswoman in the Academy. They have to put her up against professional Capitol instructors since she beats everyone from District One. As I expected, my father quickly sends Becky and Livia out the door. My heart starts to thump as I realize they might choose me. Seventeen-year-old volunteers aren't common since most instructors prefer to let their trainees reach their final year before volunteering. No doubt my status with the instructors influenced my chances.

"Tiffany, your preferred weapon is the sword. You've aced all your Academy-related exams since you were twelve. But it seems you never put as much effort into your academics. C's are not what we look for in a volunteer. For that reason alone, Juliet will be representing District One in the 116th Annual Hunger Games," says my father.

I'm absolutely beside myself. My younger brother August is sixteen, and I doubt he'll be chosen at age seventeen. Even Astoria and my father won at eighteen. This sets me apart from my family, and I'm going to take advantage of it. I'll win the Games at any cost and finally prove to them that I matter. They can't brush off my accomplishments forever.

"How'd it go?" asks my boyfriend, Blaze, when I walk out the door. He doesn't train for the Games, much to the disgust of my parents. But I love him for who he is. Someone in his family is a Victor as well, so we grew up playing around in Victors' Village.

"Spectacular," I reply. Watch out Panem. Jules is comin'.

* * *

 **Nolan Bronze (18), District One**

Beck and Astoria have pulled the girl and me aside. Now we go over the finer details of volunteering that most people don't even think about. We have to decide who volunteers first, how we walk on stage, and how we're trying to portray ourselves. They immediately tell me to act confident, which is fitting. It's no secret that I'm the strongest tribute this year. I'll lead the Career pack valiantly to the end, then kill them all. I'll bring glory to my family and my district.

They tell the girl, Jules, to act sensitive and reserved. She immediately gets prickly, stating that she wants to play the confident angle like me. Beck puts a hand on her shoulder and says, "Juliet, we can't have you stealing Nolan's spotlight. He's the stronger tribute, and therefore needs to have the confident angle. You will volunteer first, and you WILL act sensitive. Understood?"

"Understood," she snarls back, glaring daggers at me. She seems a little too unstable to be a volunteer, but I can't argue with Beck's decision. As long as I win the Games, I don't really care who they send in with me. Beck and Astoria have been working with me on my strategy for years. I was always the best in my year, and they recognized that ahead of time. We worked out a strategy, along with a stricter training program. They perfected my already perfect skills. It's only unfortunate luck that their daughter was chosen the same year as me. She'll be shocked when she discovers that I'm supposed to be Victor this year. She's just another pretty face that will fall by my hand in time.

"Mr. Bronze, I believe we've already discussed your full strategy," says Astoria, "You may now leave. I wish you the best of luck, and we'll see you on the train."

The Reaping begins, and I start to scope out my competition. Every now and then we get an unexpected volunteer, and I can't have anyone stealing my glory. I will volunteer this year. If I have to kill some idiot boy before the Games even begin, then so be it. I do spot an over-eager little boy that's bouncing on the balls of his feet. He looks to be twelve or thirteen and clearly thinks he's the greatest thing ever. Looks like I'll have to break protocol and volunteer a little early this year. It wouldn't look good on camera to beat up a little boy. I don't want to be seen as cruel, just powerful. I want people to know I can kill, but I need to be mysterious at the same time. The audience needs to be kept guessing.

First Jules volunteers. She pulls off the sensitive angle pretty well, looking left and right nervously as she walks on stage. As soon as she arrives she glares fiercely in my direction, but it was too subtle for the cameras to pick up. Now it's time for the boys.

"The male tribute from District One is…."

"I volunteer as tribute!" I yell, walking on stage before Teal can acknowledge me. He looks cheerfully in my direction, but I don't break my confident expression. Glancing back at the little boy, I see he's heartbroken and sobbing. Don't worry kid, you'll have your chance. Maybe I'll mentor you myself.

After I win.

* * *

 **I apologize for the wait. School recently ended, which seems like it would make life easier, but things have been just as hectic. I'm starting high school next year, so yeah. I should be able to update pretty quickly from now on.**

 **I still have districts Eight, Six, and Eleven to complete before we get to the Capitol chapters. I should zip through those fairly quickly, though.**

 **Thanks for reading, and don't forget to review. I think I've lost a lot of readers with my infrequent updates, but hopefully a few of you are still reading.**


	12. District Eight Reapings

**District Eight**

 **Escort: Creamy Slush**

 **Mentor #1: TBD**

 **Mentor #2: TBD**

* * *

 **Calico Damask (14), District Eight**

A lot of kids are sad today, and I can't quite figure out the reason. I'm not stupid; I know it's Reaping day. But still, the chances of getting picked are so slim that they're almost impossible. I did the math, and it's more probable to get hit by lightning then getting Reaped for the Hunger Games. If the chances are so impossibly small, why would anyone be nervous? I guess it's because they take tesserae, but it still seems pointless to worry so much. Worrying doesn't change anything.

"Rosie, Calico, what would you like for breakfast?" calls Mama.

"PANCAKES!" we shout in unison. Mama usually doesn't have enough flour to make this treat, so we take advantage of it whenever we can. Since today is a special occasion, there's no reason we shouldn't eat pancakes for breakfast.

"Rosie, I did the math," I say.

She rolls her eyes. "When do you NOT do the math, Calico?"

I continue, pretending I didn't hear her comment. "The probability that one of the two of us gets chosen is the same as the probability of getting hit by lightning. Isn't that amazing?"

She shrugs. "I guess. Math is your thing, not mine."

Rosie is sixteen, so she's currently going through the "my life is terrible" phase. Sometimes she doesn't realize how good we have it in the rich area of District Eight. My friends from school spent last night dragging tesserae in wagons, but my parents refused to let me help. They said something along the lines of, "robbers love to come out and steal tesserae from unsuspecting kids," which I find hard to believe. How could anyone be cruel enough to steal food from a starving family in need? Especially since the kids risk their lives to get the tesserae. No robber is that mean. Anyways, we never have to take tesserae.

When Daddy wakes up, we gather our things and leave for the Reaping. I'm wearing a pretty dress that my mother bought me last year. My legs are longer now, so the dress only comes to my knees.

"Calico!" exclaims my mother with a horrified look on her face, "Go put leggings on, sweetie! A gust of wind could drag that dress right off of you!"

I grin cheekily and run back inside. I was hoping she wouldn't notice. Not because I hated leggings, but because I love to undermine my mother.

When I come back out, my family is a little exasperated. They yell at me for making them late, and we all start running towards the Town Square. I notice Rosie looks nervous, but I'm not. I've done the math, and math hasn't lied to me yet.

* * *

 **Hudson Bernhagen (15), District Eight**

Being the son of the mayor has its perks. I'm rich, I can skip school if I want, and I can bribe Peacekeepers into not telling my father about my misdeeds. But the best by far is assurance that I won't be Reaped for the Hunger Games. District Eight is one of the poorer districts in Panem, meaning a lot of kids take tesserae. The chances that my four little slips will be chosen are next to nothing. Even if I was Reaped, I'm sure my father could find a way to get me out of it. Maybe he'd even force some other kid to volunteer in my place. I'm still terrified of the Hunger Games, though.

When you're in the Hunger Games, your background doesn't matter. Nice or mean, rich or poor, strong or weak, everyone is in a fight for survival. In District Eight, kids are scared of me because of my status. But in the Games, nobody will be scared of me. I'm just a skinny jerk. It doesn't matter that my father is the mayor, or that I will be mayor myself one day. The Careers aren't going to lay down and worship me. That's why the Games scare me so much. It's a complete game of luck.

On the way to the Reaping, I spot a few kids playing in a mud puddle. Grinning maliciously, I walk over to them with confidence embedded in each stride. They quake in fear at the sight of me, which makes me feel a little less nervous about the Reaping. These kids have higher chances than me. I'm sure I won't be picked.

"Hudson, just leave us alone, 'kay?" said one of the kids, holding out his hands.

"Yeah dude, we don't want any trouble," said another, "We'll give you anything you want. Want my lunch money? Here!"

The kid threw three measly pennies my direction, which I scoop up with a grin. These kids are too poor to afford lunch at school. They'll become simple factory workers like every kid in District Eight. Meanwhile, I'll be sitting in my mansion enjoying the position of mayor. Seeing these struggling kids makes my life seem so much better, and I suddenly feel that much better about myself. Why was I ever nervous for the Reaping? I couldn't show weakness in front of these stupid poverty kids. I was better than them in every way possible.

I arrived at the Reaping just in the nick of time, after punching a few kids that thought it would be funny to trip me. They have bloody noses now. Anyways, Creamy Slush is being her usual hyper self. She pulls the first name and some girl walks on stage crying. My heart thumps as she walks to the boys' ball, but I force myself to remain calm. I'm not gonna get picked.

Except I do.

* * *

 **Hope you like Calico and Hudson. Here's a bunch of appearances since I forgot some. I think a lot of submitters stopped reading, so** **please drop a review** **so I know who's still participating. Thanks!**

 **Juliet: "Jules looks are typical district 1. She's healthy and thin with a toned athletic build body. She's not extremely tall but not short either, just average height. She has a very pretty face naturally and wears very little makeup. Her hair is a deep red color and it falls just past her shoulders and has large waves in it."**

 **Nolan: "pale skin gold hair tall and very strong."**

 **Calico: "Calico has light brown/dark blonde hair (it's in the middle and impossible to tell). She has eyes that occasionally change color, from green to blue to brown, but they're usually blue (I know that works because my eyes do that). She is tall and thin, and she has long legs."**

 **Hudson: "He has short black hair, dark skin, and round dark eyes. He doesn't have any muscle and he's skinny but not sickly skinny."**


	13. District Eleven Reapings

**District Eleven**

 **Escort: Rotti Geni**

 **Mentor #1: TBD**

 **Mentor #2: TBD**

* * *

 **Palata Browns (15), District Eleven**

The new billboard is finally being featured in the Town Square. Everyone is whispering and pointing at it until they notice me. Then they realize that the star of _Brown's Smiles_ is standing right in front of them. Only the rich families can afford to come to my father's business, but the poorer children still stare at my gleaming smile in awe. The billboard isn't altered in any way. My smile really is that wonderful. My pearly whites have been featured everywhere from the dusty streets of Eleven to the richest areas in the Capitol. Brown's Smiles is the best orthodontist in the country, and we even get Capitolite customers with severe teeth problems.

"Palata, it looks gorgeous!" squeals Stacey in awe.

"Yeah Palata! Hey, think your dad would let me be on a billboard?" begs Bailey.

"OOH! Me too!" says Lauren.

I smile. My group of girls practically worship me. I'm the most popular girl in school by a landslide, and every group of less popular girls connects back to me in some way. Teenage social groups are structured like a spider web. Everyone has relationships with a billion other people, but they all revolve around _me_ here in Eleven. I and my elite group of eight other girls practically rule the school.

"Girls, girls, girls!" I exclaim, "Now WHERE are your manners? You haven't even praised my outfit yet!" I give them a twirl, displaying my rose colored T-shirt, black skirt, and combat boots. Everything is coordinated perfectly and it compliments my stunning facial features. The darker colors bring out the white of my teeth. All the girls start fussing over my outfit, assuring me that it's the best one I've picked out all week. Then Stephen Myers walks by, and they all pull towards him like squealing magnets. I'm left with some time alone.

My feet carry me towards the Reaping stage, which is currently being constructed for the Reaping tomorrow. Two unlucky individuals will be snatched from their home here in Eleven and forced to fight to the death. The Games are nasty. I don't like or hate them, I just hate watching all the blood and gore. One of my girls got Reaped last year. Selva never came back. It hit me real hard because underneath my flirty and popular exterior lies a sensitive girl that just wants to be loved. Sometimes my father is too busy at the office to pay attention to me. He really only uses me for my smile. I'm his best creation. Ever since I was a little girl, he would say, "Where's that smile? There it is! That's my good girl!" In fact, my earliest memory is an appointment with my father.

Mother and my siblings can't help much either. Mother is too busy working on the farm, and all my siblings spend more time with each other. I'm the most popular girl in school, but I'm an outcast at home. I _could_ get a boyfriend. In fact, I've wrapped almost all the popular boys around my finger at some point in my life. But I've never encountered true love, like in the movies. All the boyfriends I've ever had have used me for popularity. That's why I end up breaking their hearts.

I just keep telling myself that things will get better eventually. But nothing ever does. I have everything a girl could want, but deep down I'm missing the most important thing.

Love.

* * *

 **Darren Whitaker (18), District Eleven**

It may be cliche, but it's my life. Many District Eleven kids are orphans, and our family is no exception. My mother died giving birth to my youngest sibling, which is a common death for women in poorer districts. Without doctors to properly deliver the babies, births go wrong all the time. My father's death was a little more unexpected. He died of a heart attack last year while helping me bring in groceries. He was gone before we could get help.

Now I'm the guardian of my five younger siblings. Candy is fourteen, Zoe is eight, and Sharon is seven. Three little girls are a handful. Then there's the twins, Devin and Devon, who are five. It gets a little complicated to tell them apart. I actually had to give them wristbands so I wouldn't forget. I have to work endless hours to provide for our large family, meaning I only get six hours to myself at night. My friend from school, Tarren, is their nanny during the day. We dated for a few years and drifted apart after my father died, but now I'm thinking about proposing to her. She's the girl of my dreams, and I wouldn't have been able to take care of my siblings without her.

"Darren," whispers Tarren, "Good luck today."

We're preparing for the Reaping in a few hours. The kids are all ready, except for poor little Candy who's crying her eyes out. She keeps insisting that she's going to die, despite Tarren's promises to volunteer if Candy gets picked.

"Thanks," I whisper, pulling Tarren into my embrace. We kiss aggressively, falling back onto the bed with a thump. Her peachy scent fills my nose, and I know I couldn't imagine spending my life with anyone but her. As soon as I earn enough money for a ring, we're getting married. It's no question at this point.

Tarren goes off to find her family, bringing Zoe, Sharon, Devin, and Devon with her. I walk Candy to her place in the fourteen-year-old section, kissing her forehead gently. She's trembling uncontrollably.

"Listen to me, Candy," I say, holding her hands with my own, "You won't be picked, I promise. Tarren says she'll volunteer in your place, in the highly unlikely scenario where you get Reaped. Okay? You need to calm down."

She nods. "What about you? What if you get picked, Darren?"

I smile softly. "Then I'll just have to win, won't I? Go find your friends. I'll see you after the Reaping."

The Reaping starts fifteen minutes later, and Candy doesn't get chosen. Instead, the orthodontist girl from the billboards is called on stage. She cries softly and cries for her father, but the Peacekeepers bar her from moving off the stage. I feel bad for her, but I can't help feeling happy. Tarren and Candy are safe. The male is called on stage, and at first, I'm confused. Darren is a fairly common name, so surely they've made a mistake. Right?

Then the Peacekeepers grab me by the arms. I shake them off angrily, glaring daggers at the cameras. I'm perfectly capable of walking on my own two legs. Tarren's tear streaked face almost breaks my hardened features, but I manage to keep a steely expression. Only tough people win the Games. That means I have to be tough.

* * *

 **These two are cool characters. One more Reaping to go, guys. We're almost there. Thanks for sticking with me, and I promise the next chapter will be up tomorrow or Friday. I'll put the appearances in the next chapter.**


	14. District Six Reapings

**District Six**

 **Escort: Mandala Clef**

 **Mentor #1: TBD**

 **Mentor #2: TBD**

* * *

 **Venus Albryte (14), District Six**

 _Two thousand and thirty-four, two thousand and thirty-five, two thousand and thirty-six, two thousand and thirty-seven, two thousand and thirty-eight…._

I count quietly as I work, carefully aware of the boys surrounding me. Gang boys are the only people that manage to faze me. Most ordinary people are boring and forgettable, but the boys in Axle's gang tend to be hyper, reckless, and violent. Most of them have a sadistic streak and a craving for blood, so it's best to avoid their bad side if possible. I'm valuable to them with my mechanic skills, though. I fix and build items for them to use stretching from knives to bombs. One time they asked me to make a catapult. They're not my only customers, but the majority of my profits are from Axle.

"Yo, Axle!" calls Vaska, his boyfriend. I have nothing against gays, but these two are despicable. With Axle's level-headed nature and Vaska's hyperness, nothing can stand in their way. To make matters worse, Vaska seems to have an uncanny ability to recognize and process danger in the blink of an eye. This in itself isn't very shocking, but the fact that he's constantly taking unrealistic risks without negative consequences scares me. Everything else I can handle, but it drives me crazy when things don't make sense. My mind is like a well-oiled machine, constantly taking in new data and spitting out the three best reactions to the situation I'm in at the time. That's what keeps me out of trouble around these hooligans. But when you add a wildcard like Vaska into the situation….there's no telling what could happen.

"What is it, hun?" asks Axle.

"When will the girl be done with my knife? You KNOW what I wanted to do this afternoon. We're running out of time!"

Luckily, I happen to be done at this exact moment. I don't care what they do with my products, as long as they don't bring me into their mischief. I'm sure they've done some pretty nasty things, especially the non-gays. There tends to be a lot of abductions and rapes in a dangerous district like Six, and my suspicions tell me it's mostly from Axle's gang.

After work, I close up shop and head home. I count steps as I walk, just like I do while working. Counting is therapeutic. Life may be full of variables and unforeseen disasters, but numbers never lie. Do you think my mother expected to have a baby at age sixteen? No. Do you think she expected her boyfriend to get killed in the Games a year later? No. Do you think I expected to have to fend for myself, only to return home to an alcoholic mother every night for the past eight years? HELL no. I wouldn't be sane without numbers. On some days I'm too broken to get out of bed. I let the numbers and events flow through my head for hours, silently calculating and thinking until my head aches so badly I throw up. My own brain swallows me whole and spits me out into the world to face another day.

There's a lot of poor kids that complain about being poor. They drop out of school, saying they don't have time to learn. They're false. In reality, they're not committed enough. I go to school for seven hours at the beginning of the day, then work at the shop for another eight hours. That leaves a full seven hours of sleep, which is all I need to function. I don't waste time on petty things like reading or drawing. I don't waste time with my mother. Instead, I'm making a life for myself. Someday I'll be smart enough to move on to bigger and better things. I'm still figuring it out, but there are lots of Capitol places that would take a genius, like me.

The Reaping is tomorrow, but I'm not concerned. It's simply a number that fits into my equation, just like every other event in the vast cycle of life. Nothing is impossible. Our world is like a giant puzzle, and you never know which pieces or what order you'll be using. But I've calculated every scenario. There's nothing that could faze me at this point.

* * *

 **Vaska Napier (17), District Six**

 _[CONTENT WARNING: Boy on boy, cutting, and lots of cussing]_

"VASKA!" hollers Axle, throwing open the bathroom door with a bang. The white tile and vanity are stained with red, but that's not what shocks him the most. "VASKA! WHY ARE YOU _FUCKING_ BLEEDING?" Axle is cute when he's angry. His strong shoulders tighten, highlighting his bulging muscles and abs. I wish he'd take his shirt off, but Axle only rewards me when I've been a good boy. Cutting myself to play with blood isn't exactly the definition of a good boy. I didn't anticipate Axle getting home this early, though. He was supposed to be with Dylan and Marshall behind the school.

"You interrupted me," I whine, "Plus, we're all out of chickens. I started having a craving." Axle ended up building a coop in the backyard so I'd have chickens to torture whenever my blood cravings started, but recently the market has been all out. So in a way, it's _his_ fault that my blood is everywhere. It's probably a good thing I moved out to live with him, or else I'd be doing this every day. I'm sure ripping chunks of flesh from your arm isn't ideal for your health.

"You _know_ I've been trying, Vaska," Axle says, flustered, "But I guess you're excused just this once. But not anymore, alright? You're gonna kill yourself one of these days."

Once I'm forgiven, we turn in for the night. It's only one o'clock, but Axle says we have to be ready for the Reaping in the morning. I love feeling his skin against my body as we lay in bed. When morning rolls around I dress extra special, since this is an extra special occasion. Two children are about to receive a great honor. The Games are the gang's favorite form of entertainment. We all gather around Joyce's television (the richest kid in the gang) and watch kids murder other kids. We don't volunteer though. The risk is too great. It's much more fun to watch helpless little twelve-year-olds die instead.

My keys are hanging on a hook by the door, but I somehow manage to get them caught. With a cry, I rip them away from the wall and the hook pulls out of the wood with a snap. Then the hook flies across the kitchen like a ninja star and into the microwave, shattering the thin glass. I hear thumping upstairs as Axle thunders into the kitchen.

His face hides nothing. "WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK? VASKA!"

I grin. "Sorry. You know I can't help it." It's true. Violence is in my nature. Whatever higher being created me decided 'screw it' and gave me tons of destructive qualities. A problem occurs? I punch it. Someone's annoying me, I attempt to kill them. The sink is leaking? Flamethrower it. Speaking from experience.

We arrive at the Reaping, and the whole gang clusters close to the small wooden stage. We like to see the tribute's expression when they're first Reaped. It's usually priceless. The best ones are the big kids that try to act all tough, even though they're terrified little wimps inside. Confidence is something you're born with. It can only be feigned, not acquired.

The girl is Reaped, and we're all shocked to see Venus walk on stage. She's quiet as ever. Honestly, she's the only person that truly scares me. She's very helpful, always willing to fix gang supplies for a cheaper price, but deep down all I see is a selfish, calculating girl that would stab anyone in the back without a second thought. Whoever ends up in the arena with her is screwed.

"Vaska Napier!"

I laugh out loud at the absurdity of the situation. Hundreds, no, _thousands_ of kids in Six took tesserae to provide for their families. So many of them had more slips than me, and the escort's hand managed to pluck _mine._ Even Axle looks ready to crack up.

"Go get 'em, tiger," says Axle, grinning, "See you in a few weeks."

* * *

 **These two are so outrageously complicated that I felt overwhelmed. They were some of the first tributes I received, but I ended up writing them last. Sorry Golden Moon Huntress if they don't seem as complex as you originally planned. I have a lot of development in store for them both, so they should turn out better after a few more POV's.**

 **I tried desperately to tame Vaska's POV a bit (trust me, it used to be WAY creepier) and I think I got it to a T level at last. I still threw in a content warning in case some of you are creeped out by that sort of thing. In reality, he's just a creepy person in general. His form didn't say anything about cutting specifically, but I figured a maniac with a craving for blood would probably do that sort of thing. I tried writing it without getting into detail with his relationship with Axle (I'm always uncomfortable writing gays because I don't want to offend anyone) but it turned out horrible. His relationship is a major part of his personality, so I had to include it in greater detail. I greatly apologize if ANY of Vaska's section offended you in any way. The whole time I was confused on what I should detail and what I should leave out. Like I said above, I think it's bearable for most of you.**

 **Last Reaping! Yay! We have a wide range of personalities this year, so I'm excited to start writing some interactions between tributes. I have a tentative idea of who the bloodbath deaths will be, so I'll try to give them some extra development. Just cause a character develops doesn't mean they'll be a bloodbath, though. I received ten bloodbaths total, but I don't think I'll kill that many. Some of them actually had nice forms and it'd be a shame to pick them off early.**

 **I promised a bunch of appearances, so here they are:**

 **Palata: "Palata is on the shorter side, with dark brown skin and eyes, as well as curly black hair that she irons out straight. She has a pretty face and stunning teeth; they are so white and straight that her smile could probably kill. She wears rich clothes and an abundance of makeup most days, and she looks very beautiful and wealthy. Her favorite outfit is a rose colored t-shirt, charcoal skirt, and combat boots; she wears this to the Reaping."**

 **Darren: "He is very tall, well over 6 feet and is bulky and built. He has dark brown skin with short black hair"**

 **Venus: "Venus is a rather plain looking girl with an oval face, wide cheekbones, slim, slightly upturned nose, large, deep set hazel eyes and pale skin. She stands at 5'1, with a slim figure and flat chest. She would be rather forgettable looking if not for her thick, waist length scarlet red hair, which is usually kept in a high, strict ponytail."**

 **Vaska: "Vaska is a beautiful looking boy with a diamond shaped face, long, slim nose, large blue eyes, full lips and tanned golden skin. He stands at 6'10, with a muscular, athletic figure. His hair is white blonde, falling in a bob around his chin."**

 **I'm still deciding how many Train Rides to do. I'm thinking about giving each tribute a Train Ride and a Training chapter, but I'm not sure yet. What do you guys think? Chariot rides, private sessions, and interviews will be in the POV of someone else, so don't bother with those.**


	15. Train Rides (Part One)

**Juliet "Jules" Mohr (17), District One**

I hate my family so much right now. I've always hated them for loving August more than me, but now I hate them even more than before. We arrived on the train right after goodbyes, which was disappointing as well. August wished me luck, but my mother didn't even bother saying farewell. But that's beside the point. As soon as we got on the train, my father and Astoria took Nolan into a compartment without me. They told me to wait my turn, but it's been three hours. What type of strategy meeting takes three hours?

Nolan seems like a jerk. If I were in his shoes I might let the girl see her father before having a strategy meeting. But no, he just strolls in there like he owns the place and steals my family from me. Technically Astoria should be mentoring me while my father mentors Nolan, but there's no rule saying the mentors have to help both tributes. I can only hope they'll be done before dinner. Otherwise, I'll have to strategize by myself.

We arrive at the Capitol first thing in the morning, but I should have plenty of time to shower and get dressed. Without my mentors to talk to, I'm left wandering around aimlessly. What are Careers supposed to do on this damn train? I have no interest in candy or video games like the outliers. Is there a training room or something? My whole life has been spent brutally training for the Games, so it's my main form of entertainment. I've never known anything else.

Blaze never trained for the Games, so what did he do in his free time? I remember him doing a lot of boring stuff, like writing or painting. I have no interest in those. He did rewatch old Hunger Games films if he was super bored. Now that I think about it, rewatching old tributes' mistakes is probably a good idea.

My hand is drawn to the Games marked 90th Hunger Games. My father never lets me see this tape. When I was little I watched many old Hunger Games, and of course, I saw some of the more recent ones live, including Astoria's. But no matter where I looked, the 90th Games eluded me. My father made sure it wasn't in the Academy, it wasn't in his personal collection of Games' tapes, and it wasn't at the market. It's as if he banned it in the entire district. But he can't stop me now.

I'm stunned when I see a skinny eighteen-year-old boy walk on stage unsteadily after volunteering with a quavering voice. His peers made fun of him, laughing and jeering. Some of them yell out and predict his death. But the boy went on to score an 11 in training, blowing the audience away. He killed tribute after tribute over the course of five days, getting more and more brutal as the Games went on. At the end, he defeated a massive eagle mutt during a raging storm, and at that point, there was only one tribute left. The boy fought the massive boy from Two until only one boy remained. The skinny boy cackled and cried with insane laughter, coated in the blood of his fallen enemies.

I scream, turning off the screen with choking sobs. That's not the father I know and love. My dad may ignore me at times, but he's still my father. I love him and he loves me. We buy birthday presents for each other and go to father-and-daughter dances. The maniac laughing on screen is not my father. It's a monster.

* * *

 **Cendko Pillars (18), District Two**

I can't stand how Alexandria and Onyx are treating Kiara. Alexandria can't stop cursing Irene for not volunteering, and Onyx just ignores the poor girl. I tried to step in and get her noticed, but it only resulted in a string of insults from Alexandria's fiery mouth. Apparently, they're mad at the instructors for choosing a "crippled" boy to volunteer. I tried to tell them that I can walk, but Alexandria wants no part of it. After a while, Onyx just asked us to leave.

Kiara went straight to her room, sobbing for her sister, Kimora. I'm a little disappointed that my district partner is so weak, but at the same time, I feel sorry for her. She's been through a lot in her life. She knows my pain. People that have suffered tend to band together, and that's exactly what we're doing right now. I knock on her door quietly, muttering a few words to announce my presence. She asks me to go away, but I open the door anyways. I _am_ smart enough to close my eyes in case she's naked or something. Once I'm sure she's not going to throw a shoe at my face, I open my eyes and sit down on her bed.

"So," I say, "What now?"

"I prepare my will," she whimpers, covering her face with her hands. Silent tears streak down her cheeks and land on the bed covers. I can't have her acting like this in the Capitol. She'll only hurt my chances of getting sponsors.

"Listen," I sigh, "Are you really going to give up? After everything you've been through? If you give up and die, Irene wins."

Kiara looks up at me with huge brown eyes. Her lips quiver as she says, "But I don't stand a chance! The Careers always hunt down people like me. Plus I've never trained a day in my life! How am I supposed to compete with you guys?"

At that moment, I know what I have to do. My parents told me not to bond closely with any of my fellow Careers, but Kiara is a girl in need. She's been hated and ridiculed her whole life, just for being shy. I want to prove the bullies wrong. Kiara Wong will amaze everyone. I know she's a strong person deep down. All she needs is a little confidence.

"Kiara. I can get you in the Careers."

She shakes her head helplessly. "How? They'll see me in the recap. I'm obviously not strong enough."

I begin to tell her my plan, and her eyes get wider and wider. By the end, her tears have dried up completely. Our plan is flawless. The viewers are sure to underestimate Two's tributes this year, considering I'm missing an arm and she's a bully victim. But when we put our minds together, we're unstoppable.

* * *

 **Moira Locke (17), District Three**

Mugger is an incompetent idiot. But I'm glad for his idiocy. Idiots, like the three boys I murdered, are easy to manipulate and eventually murder. As long as I keep a level head, Mugger is mine to kill. I've already considered all the ways to kill him, and I think I'll stick with the old-fashioned knife. Knives are the best torture weapon because they give you lots of freedom. I could stab him, cut him, or kill him right away. I could take off limbs, pull out bones, or puncture his organs. Many other weapons don't give you so many options.

" _What the fuck, girls suck…_

 _What the fuck, girls suck…._

 _WHAT THE FUCK, girls suck….._

 _WHAAAAAAT THE FUUUUUUUCK…GIRLS SUCK!"_

Whoever gave Mugger a guitar deserves to die. He's been singing his band's songs for hours now, and it's almost hard to believe anyone could be so stupid. He thinks they're sexist, but they're really just childish. I don't understand how any girl could be offended by his endless blabber. Mugger is a disgrace to humankind.

Lextra approaches me from behind, cackling quietly. She's ninety years old, and I believe she won the 43rd Hunger Games. So far my only impression of her is an immature grandma. She's constantly making bad jokes and trying to get Wyatt to talk to her. He's quieter than her, choosing to silently play chess with an Avox in the corner. Neither of them has tried to talk strategy yet, which is fine with me.

"He's an interesting one, isn't he?" giggles Lextra, "I bet I can guess his favorite word."

My lips draw back in a snarl. Usually, I don't talk to anyone except my older sister, but it's not like Lextra will tell anyone. "He's incompetent and foolish," I hiss, "I'll rip him to shreds at the first opportunity."

Lextra looks taken aback. "Oh yeah. You're that crazy girl. My sister doesn't think you're right in the head. We see you wandering around Town Square in the mornings. Say, are you a mime? Mimes are creepy, and so are you. You also don't talk much."

That's it. I'm done talking. It seems I'm surrounded by complete imbeciles. Without a word, I storm off to my room. On my bed are the textbooks I requested, filled with Capitol-level knowledge of the human body. It's filled with interesting facts about cells and chromosomes that I didn't even know existed. They talk about different nationalities and why some people look different from other people. Apparently, there used to be countries besides Panem. But that's not the most interesting thing.

Mutts. I vaguely remember the word from previous Hunger Games, but these textbooks go into much more detail. I learn about how mutts are created, how the Capitol manages to change an animal's cells, and the mutation process that grows them in Capitol laboratories. Suddenly I'm filled with an incredible desire to create my own mutts. I want to experiment with types of cells to invent a being of my own creation. I want another organism to see me as their _god_.

* * *

 **Frank Tides (18), District Four**

"After looking at the other Career tributes, we've concluded that you're the strongest pair by a landslide," says Darren, glancing at Tilapia, "The tributes from One don't get along, and the Two's are weak. That being said, I think you should let the boy from One lead the Careers this year. Astoria from One informed us that he was planning to lead, and it's best not to get on his bad side. He's still a formidable opponent."

"When should we take him out?" I ask. I don't like the sound of Nolan from One. From what I've heard he's arrogant but has the strength to back it up. His only downfall is his bad relationship with the girl in his district. Lusi and I are closely allied, so we should be able to dispatch him easily when the time comes.

"Let's wait until the final twelve at least," says Lusi, "If something comes up, we can always take him out sooner. The bigger question is the girl from Two. The boy can handle himself, but she's obviously not Career material."

We all ponder Kiara for a while until Tilapia finally speaks up. "Let's wait and see her during training. Sometimes smaller girls pretend to act weak. Irene not volunteering could be a trick, for all we know. Maybe Kiara is the chosen volunteer after all."

The strategy meeting ends, and Darren sends us on our way. Lusi and I wander to the kitchen to get a bite to eat. We've been talking ever since the Reaping ended, and we actually have a lot in common. My easy-going nature is helping her open up a bit, and she's no longer quiet and reserved around me. I suspect this is only temporary since I remember her personality at the Academy. She's a solitary girl by nature, and nothing I do will change that. The Games aren't a place to make friends.

"So, what was your home life like?" I ask.

Lusi takes a bite out of her doughnut. "Pretty boring. I helped my father dive for artifacts. Academy training and diving are pretty much my life."

"Have you ever tried surfing?" I ask, grinning, "That's my favorite thing to do. My girlfriend and I go every day after school and training. Sienna almost got mauled by a tiger shark once."

"One time we saw a great white," Lusi says, "My father and I hid in the sunken ship for half an hour until it left, and by that time our tanks were depleted of oxygen. He passed out and I had to drag him to the surface."

My eyes widen. I never realized diving was so dangerous. "How long did you hold your breath?"

She grins, sticking her tongue out at me. "Nine minutes and forty-three seconds. I had to take off our weights one by one. It's dangerous to go right to the surface after deep diving. I shared my oxygen tank with my father, and I had to force the air into him by squeezing his chest."

"Damn. If we're ever trapped in a flood then I know who to look for."

* * *

 **Here's districts One, Two, Three, and Four. Feel free to message people and make your own alliances, just remember to PM me so I know. I'll probably make some alliances on my own regardless of what you guys do.**

 **I'm trying to update every day, so I'm kind of on a roll right now.**


	16. Train Rides (Part Two)

**Sabrina Volta (16), District Five**

"I was just like you, once," says Helga, dabbing at her eye with a tissue, "I was a normal girl from Five that everyone disregarded as weak. Nobody thought I could be the Victor. I was much too boring."

I'm glad I have Helga as my mentor. She's old enough to be my grandmother and acts like it as well. Her voice soothes my beating heart until I'm finally able to breathe easy again. The back of my mind is screaming that Helga can't protect me from Careers, but for the moment I let her voice calm me into a false sense of security. There may be danger to come, but for the moment I am safe. There's no reason to be afraid.

"H-how did you win?" I ask.

Her weary eyes immediately darken, and I realize with a jolt that this is a broken woman. She may act selfless and kind on the outside, but the memories of her Games will never leave. She is forever scarred by the Capitol and their schemes. At one point Helga was just like me; young, happy, and carefree. But after emerging from the Games victorious, she changed forever. Even if by chance I manage to win the Games, which is little to none at best, I'll never act the same. What will Martin think of me then? Will we ever be able to joke around like twins? Will the memories ever leave?

Helga never answers my question. She leaves the room with a quiet sigh, telling me to find Dorian and strategize. Jeremy, our other mentor, is talking to my district partner in the other room. Helga and Jeremy want Dorian and me to ally, but I'm not sold on the idea. He's a little too serious for my taste. The only plus is protection since Dorian is some sort of vigilante Peacekeeper.

"Sabrina!" exclaims Jeremy as I enter the room, "Please, have a seat! We were just talking about you."

After taking a seat, Dorian begins to speak. "Listen, Sabrina. I don't think we're a good match for each other. We wouldn't make good allies, but I still have a proposal." He looks me right in the eyes. "Why don't we remain…...neutral allies. As in, we won't kill each other on sight."

 _I don't think I could kill_ anyone _on sight._

Having Dorian as an acquaintance could be a good thing, but it makes me nervous at the same time. What if this is his master scheme to get me under his wing? He might be convincing me to take my guard down so he can kill me. But after reviewing my options, I realize I don't have any other allies at the moment. There's no guarantee I'll find anyone during training. Plus, denying Dorian's kind gesture might make him my enemy. And I sure as hell have enough enemies already.

"Sure," I say, "We won't kill on sight. If we meet in the arena, we'll help each other out and be on our merry way. Deal?"

He grins. "Deal."

* * *

 **Vaska Napier (17), District Six**

Venus and Sasha hit it off right away. They're both practically geniuses, so they locked themselves in a compartment to do math problems together. That leaves me with Remus, the morphing addict. He won last year, so it's a little shocking to see how far he deteriorated in just twelve months. Of course, I'm gonna take advantage of his loopiness. That's just the type of person I am.

"Hey, Remus!" I exclaim, "I know you're high and all, but I was wondering if you've ever tried _blood_ as a method of therapy?"

"Wha?"

"You know, cutting! It's _quite_ enjoyable. I get cravings for blood, and when there are no chickens I cut my own arms and drink the blood. It's an alternative to… you know, drugs. And you get the same level of enjoyment!"

"So much blood!" groans Remus, banging his head on the table over and over, "BLOOD! NO, _MARIA_! COME BACK! DON'T! THEY'RE IN THE CAVE!" He tips out of his chair and lands with a crash. The poor boy's mouth begins to froth and he pukes all over the tile with a gag. Sasha runs out of her compartment, ordering some Avoxes to take Remus to his room. And I can't stop laughing. I laugh so hard that I start to gag.

"What the HELL is so funny?" snarls Sasha, "He's been through more than you EVER will, you ungrateful maniac! Have some respect! He lost his FUCKING fiance to the Games last year! And to make things worse, HE ended up winning. HOW the fucking hell would you feel if that happened to you?"

Sasha has done the impossible. She's made me speechless. Even Venus raises an eyebrow from her position in the background, mouthing, "What did you _do_?" Sasha grabs Venus by the elbow and drags her back in the compartment, slamming the door with a bang. That leaves me all alone for the first time since I got on the train.

I miss Axle. He would have stopped me from doing this. There are no chickens on the train, so I have to find blood somewhere. I figured the Capitol wouldn't appreciate me murdering Remus, so I snatch an Avox instead. Her eyes widen as she thrashes, but I hold her down with a menacing hand. We enter a broom closet and the fun begins.

First I cut out her teeth, one by one. Then I cut out her vocal cords. Now she really can't utter a sound. I know she's dead once I cut out her heart, but that doesn't mean I have to stop. I cut into her stomach, her breasts, and her face. I smear her mashed up organs onto my face, laughing with glee. At some point I fall asleep, only to wake up at midnight covered in cold blood. I lick the maroon streaks off the floor, off my hands, and off her body. Then I shove her mangled body parts into a trash compartment, where it will be disposed of once we reach the Capitol.

Now I lie awake in bed, covered in the blood of the Avox girl. It's clinging wetness lulls me to sleep at last.

* * *

 **Ivy de Lima (16), District Seven**

Jessica is just like me. She's sassy, sexy, and feisty. The only difference is she won the Games and I haven't. Most of her time in District Seven is spent drunk, but she saw potential in me as soon as I was Reaped. Now she's asking me about every aspect of myself. She wants to know every good and bad moment in my life, as well as my most defining qualities.

"If I won, then you most definitely can," said Jessica, "The six Careers in my Games were deadly. Two of them were complete maniacs, and the other four were the best in their year. They killed twelve tributes in the bloodbath."

"Wow," I breathe. Jessica is trying to instill confidence in me, but it's hard to be confident when you've been chosen to die. I never used axes like the rest of District Seven. My mother only lets me do factory work, stating that axes were too dangerous for a woman. Living in the lumber district gave me a basic idea of how to swing an ax, but I'll have to brush up during training.

Jessica grabbed a bunch of old tapes from a cabinet and sat me down on my bed, telling me to comb through some old Games to find a strategy that suits me. That's what she did before her Games. "The Capitol will sometimes use mutts and twists from previous Games," she said, "So take notes on how tributes reacted to different situations, both good and bad. You need to be prepared for anything. My brother and I fought a cookie mutt, as crazy as it sounds. I remembered that their weakness was fire."

While Hideki, Tomer, and Jessica watch the Reaping recaps, I take notes on the most popular Hunger Games in history. I watch Jessica's, which was the 105th, and it amazes me how incredibly resilient she was. She volunteered to go into the Games with her brother, and they were an unbeatable duo until the finale. Then they killed the remaining two Careers, but her brother was injured. He bled out and she won the Games.

It's obvious who's strategy I'll be copying this year. Jessica used her feisty nature to her advantage, and I plan to do the same. During training, I'll be unapproachable and aloof, but during my private session and interview, I'll be sexy and sassy.

"Jessica, I know what I'm doing now," I say.

She smiles knowingly. "Trust me, Ivy, I already know who you're copying. Now go make it work."

Hideki fills me in after dinner, which I'm grateful for. "The only Career pair that's functional this year are the Fours. The One's are still dangerous but the Two's are weak. We need to watch out for the Five boy, the Sixes, the Eight boy, the Nines, and the Eleven boy. Everyone else is weaker than us."

I nod. "I'm not allying with you. But I probably won't kill you either."

He rolls his eyes. "Well shit, that's comforting. Thanks, though."

"Do you need a strategy?" I ask, "I recommend looking through old tapes."

"Nope," he says, shaking his head, "I already know what to do."

* * *

 **Hudson Bernhagen (15), District Eight**

Calico is the type of girl I'd tease back in District Eight. She's small, nerdy, and not nearly as rich as me. But Styla took her away to talk strategy despite my protests. At least our other mentor is more fun. Jay is young at twenty-three and he won his Games by killing the remaining three tributes. He seems to be a kill first, talk later type of guy. Just like me.

"So, what weapons are you good with?" Jay asks.

"Um…" I stammer, "My bare hands. We don't really have swords in Eight."

"When did you use your fists? Did you fight bullies?"

I shrug. "I bullied little weak kids. It was sort of fun I guess. Not very difficult, though. What weapons should I learn in training?"

Jay tells me knives are the most readily available weapon in the Games, so he sets me up with an Avox sparring partner. We hold plastic knives that won't kill, but could probably cause some pretty nasty bruises. Our fighting area is the kitchen, cleared of all furniture. It can't be that hard to beat an Avox.

We begin, and the poor Avox boy looks utterly terrified. His strikes are clumsy and weak, but some of the stray swings manage to clip my arm. Luckily I'm muscular enough for the plastic knife to bounce off without much damage. I begin to attempt blocking his strikes with my own blade, which doesn't work out well. He hits my fingernail which hurts like hell. I eventually resort to striking harder and faster than him, which results in victory.

"I'm impressed," says Jay, smiling gruffly, "But Careers will be stronger than this puny boy. You need to train with the professionals during training, alright?"

"Did you have any prior knowledge of knives before your Games?" I ask.

"No," says Jay, "I learned everything during training, and I ended up winning. You're not doomed yet, Hudson. Just try not to make enemies, alright? Especially with the Careers."

That night we watch the recaps, which are pretty disappointing, to say the least. Half the Careers are completely dysfunctional, and most of the outliers are weak and skinny. Winning the Games shouldn't be too hard if I keep my head screwed on straight. They may be all about luck, but people like me have an advantage over other tributes. As long as Lady Luck is on my side, I should be alright.

"You two should head to bed," says Styla, "We arrive at the Capitol tomorrow morning. You need to be well rested."

"Okay," says Calico sweetly.

Something about that little girl drives me crazy. She's small and weak but doesn't seem afraid at all. Shouldn't she be crying or something? Why does she seem so chipper? Styla meets my eye and grins. Those two are hiding something.

* * *

 **Whew! I didn't think I'd get this done until tomorrow. I'm starting to come up with my own mentors (Remus, Jay, ect) but I still need both 9's and one 11 if you'd like to help. Remember to review, and see you next chapter!**


	17. Train Rides (Part Three)

**NOTE: I messed up Avery's first name in the Reaping chapter. It's actually Tessa. Her full name is Tessa Avery Raeburn, but she dropped her last name when her parents died. Now she's Tessa Avery, but she goes by Avery.**

* * *

 **Tessa Avery (18), District Nine**

"But WHY?" I snarl, swinging the butter knife at Melinda's face. She ducks, striking back with a quick slap to my face. I'm thrown on my ass which hurts like hell. I kick out at her legs and she simply steps back, watching with amusement as I struggle to my feet.

"You need to calm down and learn to listen," says Melinda, "I'm your mentor, and I've done nothing but try to help you. Most mentors would have given up on you by now."

"I don't need anyone's help," I roar, "If you really want to help me, let me get Matt! HE NEEDS TO DIE!"

"What's all this talk about killing me?" asks a calm voice from the compartment door. The little devil himself walks inside, grinning at me with perfect teeth. I want to destroy his teeth. I want to rip them out one by one. I want to mash that handsome face of his into the floor until it bleeds. I want to completely eradicate Matt Sickle from the face of the Earth until he is nothing but a vague memory.

I lunge straight for his throat, and he's so shocked that he doesn't have time to evade. The two of us crash into the table, kicking and clawing for the upper hand. Melinda and Jason attempt to stop us, but we're way too fast for them. I punch Matt in the face, breaking his nose with a snap. He claws at my cheek, leaving a gash of red. We're so evenly matched that neither can defeat the other.

"STOP!" roars Jason, punching me in the chin. Stars start to swirl across my vision until I collapse in Melinda's arms. She pulls me out of the room, muttering curses. We enter my bedroom, and she throws me on the bed with a huff. Then she leaves, locking the door behind her. Why do these doors lock from the outside?

Now I'm stuck in this fucking room. I pace for hours, screaming for Matt at the top of my lungs. I can't stand the thought of that boy. He's so smug and… and…. unbearable. He thinks he's so great. Well, I've got news for him. You can't walk all over Avery like she's trash. He's made me his enemy, and I'll be sure to kill him at the first opportunity. I don't care if I kill him during the fucking interviews. He has to go, and I'll make sure of it.

Melinda enters the room that evening. "Listen, Avery. Do you want to win the Games? Huh?"

"Yes," I snarl.

"Good," she says, "Cause I was starting to think you were suicidal. You can't act like this in the Capitol, or the Gamemakers will take you out as soon as you enter that damn arena. I don't fucking care what you do once the Games start, but for the next week you need to leave Matt alone."

As much as I hate to admit it, Melinda is right. The Gamemakers don't like insane tributes. They're fun while they last, but they never win. If I'm constantly being dragged away from Matt, they're sure to kill me when the Games start. I need to behave, like Melinda said, until the bloodbath. Then Matt is all mine.

"And just something to think about…" says Melinda, wiping a tear from her eyes, "Sometimes you need to take a step back and look at the big picture. Matt is from your district. Your home. You may be enemies now, but you're bonded by your heritage. Just something to think about."

Melinda leaves, and I'm left feeling more confused than before.

* * *

 **Chander Forrest (12), District Ten**

Our mentors don't think we stand a chance. Marshall is really harsh, and Catherine thinks he's a little insane. I tend to agree with her. We found him in the kitchen, stabbing butter knives into the kitchen table with his big muscles. He's a little scary. Samuel is the exact opposite. He's overweight and drunk, and I honestly haven't seen him since we got on the train. I think he's drinking in his room.

Now Catherine and I are crying buddies. We cried in the living room for a while, until Marshall got tired of us. Then we had to go to her room. But my wheelchair wouldn't fit. Now we're crying in the hallway, trying to think of something that doesn't involve death.

"Hey, maybe we'll win!" says Catherine with mock happiness, "You know, the crippled boy and the little farm girl. Victors of the 116th Hunger Games. Totally possible, am I right?"

I sniffle, laughing shakily at her attempted joke. I feel like I've known Catherine my whole life. I know she has four younger siblings named Jess, Mattie, Hammond, and Joseph. Her mother washes them in a big tub at night and they all gather around a homemade shrine to honor the dead District Ten tributes. Then her father reads them a bedtime story, and they fall asleep one by one. First little Jess, followed by chattering Mattie and Hammond. Joseph is next, and Catherine, satisfied that her siblings are safe, falls asleep last. She's practically told me her whole life story.

Catherine asks me about my life, and I immediately start to tell her about the flailing horse that smashed my leg a month ago.

"No, silly!" she exclaims, "That's just one bad day! Tell me about _you._ Like before all the bad stuff."

"None of that matters now. I'll never be who I used to be," I say, sniffling.

"Come on!" she cries, "A crippled leg doesn't have to change you! What's your favorite thing to do?"

"Draw pictures."

"WHOA! Me too!" Catherine squeals.

Catherine and I draw pictures for the rest of the evening, chatting about our lives before getting Reaped. She makes me realize that having a bad leg doesn't have to change me. I'd still be doomed, even if I could walk. Catherine and I are _both_ doomed. All we can do is make the best of life before we're inevitably killed in the Games.

"I hate our mentors," I say.

"Yeah, fuck you Marshall and Samuel!" squeaks Catherine, immediately reddening up at her use of language.

"Whoa," I say, "Now that our parents aren't here, are we allowed to… you know. Bleep and stuff."

"Sure!" she says.

After dinner, we amuse ourselves by drawing pictures and saying all the cuss words we know. It's fun to have a taste of freedom at last.

* * *

 **Palata Browns (15), District Eleven**

I think I've finally cried myself out. My eyes feel like dried grapes. My face has been streaked with my carefully applied makeup, but makeup seems comical at this point. Was that really all I cared about? Looking pretty and being popular? God, I had it so good. This must be how the poor kids feel. Every year they risk their lives to bring food home for their families, aware that they could be picked to die. I used to see them as lower than myself, but now I know I've been mistaken my whole life.

I've been such a jerk.

So many girls have been humiliated by my words. So many girls have looked up to me as an example, wishing that they could have a single taste of what I experience every day. And I looked down on them. Instead of helping them, I looked down on them as dirty hooligans. In reality, they're braver than I ever will be.

"Maybe….maybe I deserve to die," I whisper, sobbing louder when I realize it's true. The poor families would die without their children working hard to earn money. If I died, nothing would change. My family would move on. We'd still be rich. The rich kids aren't entitled to anything. In fact, we should be taking the brunt of the suffering upon ourselves, so the poorer families can live on. Without the poor families, we wouldn't have farmers. They barely manage to scrape by, and yet they hold the entire district industry on their shoulders.

"Palata?" asks a quiet voice. Harold lets himself in my room, closing the door behind him. He then sits on the side of my bed with a sigh. We sit like this for at least fifteen minutes. His presence comforts me.

"Harold?" I ask nervously, "Were you poor? I mean, before you won the Games. I feel like a real bitch right now."

He nods. "Yes, I was poor. I worked on the farms until I was Reaped. Luckily I won, or my family wouldn't have survived." He looks me in the eyes. "Palata, stop being so hard on yourself. You didn't know any better. Everything changes now that you're in the Games. Nobody cares if you're rich or poor."

"But Darren probably hates me!" I cry, "My face taunted him. Every time he looks at a billboard he's reminded that there are people that have it easy. And I _flaunted_ it. I never realized how hard they have it. Now I know how poor kids feel. They don't even know if they'll survive another day."

"Wanna know how poor kids cope?" he asks, grinning.

"How?"

"We forget," he whispers, "Worrying won't get you anywhere. Bitching and moaning won't help. All you can do is adapt and change. You may have been entitled and rude before, but everyone can improve. God gives second chances."

Harold is right about one thing. Crying won't get me anywhere.

* * *

 **Gordon Matthew (14), District Twelve**

None of us know what to say to Sunny. She refused to come to dinner, despite Coal's protests. She's skinnier than a twig but somehow believes that she's fat. She says the Capitol will hate her for being fat, but I think I could snap her in half, and I'm weak. There's no telling what a Career would do to her.

"Their opinion doesn't matter!" roars Mack, slamming his hands on the table. Sunny just continues to sob, pushing her plate away whenever Coal hands it to her. It's loaded with steak, mashed potatoes, and applesauce.

"How will I get sponsors?" she wails.

"Sunny, they're probably disgusted by you!" I insist, "You have to get some meat on your bones! They won't sponsor a skinny girl that can't win!"

Everyone goes silent, and I go red in the face. I didn't mean to be so harsh, but clearly, I offended her. I pretty much stated that she can't win, which won't help her self-esteem at all. I try to backtrack, but Sunny wants no part of it. She runs out of the room, sobbing her eyes out. Coal goes after her, and Mack puts his head in his hands wearily.

"How can I save a tribute that won't even eat?" whispers the big man.

I've never been good at comforting people. I'm much better at studying like a good boy. Or doing the dishes to please my mother. Maybe even helping my father write speeches if I'm feeling particularly motivated. But helping a full grown man feel less bad about himself isn't my strong suit. Mack is clearly taking this pretty hard.

"Hey… um… maybe one of us will win?" I say hopefully.

"That's what they say every year," Mack whispers, "But nobody has won since Coal. And that was the 78th Games."

 _Well way'da make me feel better about my chances._

This conversation is getting too awkward, so I leave the kitchen and head to my room. I plan on watching old Games' tapes to improve my chances. Surely my parents will send me sponsor gifts. Now I need to learn how to fight and survive so I'll be able to use those riches. I'm no good with a knife, or tents, or even finding food.

I decide to watch the 76th Games. A young Mack walks on stage nervously after being called, and he looks nothing like the strong man I saw at the dinner table. He scores a four in training and has a relatively average interview. Nothing special.

The Cornucopia had no weapons. Three Careers were killed by a sadistic outlier with a canteen. The remaining three Careers scattered and were killed by various natural causes. Mack was good with survival and managed to stick around until the final ten. Then he killed the girl from Eight, which affected his mentality. He made it to the finale slightly bloodthirsty and managed to kill the sadistic kid from Five.

Two years later, Mack mentored Coal, who also won the Games. Now, thirty-eight years later, Twelve still hasn't had another Victor. This year will be different. Gordon Matthew will win the 116th Hunger Games.

* * *

 **I went ahead and made the rest of the mentors so I could finish. What do you think of the tributes this year? Some of them are already starting to develop into completely different people.**

 **I'm gonna start doing questions each chapter. Feel free to answer them if you wish.**

 **1\. Who will die first, Matt or Avery?**

 **2\. Would the parents of Catherine and Chander approve of their nasty language? :D**

 **3\. How will Palata's realization affect her in the Games?**

 **4\. Will Sunny be sponsored in the arena? What about Gordon?**


	18. Stylists

**Mozzi Ria (F), District One**

Dressing tributes is my favorite thing in the whole wide world. I take that back, _pearls_ are my favorite thing in the whole wide world. I try to merge these two together whenever possible, and the luxury district gives me a perfect opportunity.

"Do you like pearls?" I ask an angry Jules.

"Um….. I guess," is her reply.

"What about you?" I ask Nolan.

"UGH!" he exclaims, looking at the glamorous outfit I've prepared.

* * *

 **Blaze Mason (F), District Two**

I take a more practical approach to my tribute outfits. The newest Capitol fashion magazines are shipped to the Training Center for me to look at, some of which aren't even published yet. The trends may be weird, but they're upcoming.

"Grey body dye is the new thing," I say, "You guys ready to strip down?"

"Here?" asks Cendko, a little nervous. Careers always soften up when they're forced to put their humility aside and strip in front of me.

"Oh boy," breathes Kiara.

* * *

 **Omarion Flint (M), District Three**

The other stylists don't like me as much, mostly because I devote _too much_ time and energy into my outfits. Sometimes I start preparing them years in advance. I already have a prototype for my outfits in the 118th Games.

"This year you'll represent the robotics section of District Three," I say.

"Heh," laughs Mugger, "Make Miss Vampire be the robot. I bet she'll look stupid."

I grin. "Actually, _you'll_ be the robot. Surprise!"

* * *

 **Moni Peep (F), District Four**

"So, what do _you_ want to be?" I ask my tributes. I think it's important for the tributes to get input on their outfits, since they've seen the successes and failures of stylists in the past. Usually I let them pick out whatever they want.

"Here," says Lusi, handing me a disc, "This is my favorite tribute parade of all time. The Four outfits were amazing."

"I helped her pick it out," says Frank, rolling his eyes, "Stop being greedy, Lusi. Stealing all the credit like _you_ were the brains. We all know it was me."

These two are perfect together. They both start cracking up and I can't help but laugh with them. Time to go look at this tape.

* * *

 **Lico Glaze (M), District Five**

I spent all year planning the perfect outfit. Countless hours and days were spent next to the sewing machine, working my fingers until they bled. All that's left is to show the outfit to Dorian and Sabrina.

"So, what do you think?" I ask them once they're dressed.

"Uncomfortable," grunts Dorian.

"I think it looks…..neat," says Sabrina carefully.

"Click this button when you're ready," I say, handing the button to Sabrina. She seems more responsible.

* * *

 **Owley Oglesby (F), District Six**

Sometimes it's best to follow what stylists have done in the past, no matter how boring. Some stylists try new things and it totally flops, resulting in them being fired. I don't want to be fired. I've quit too many jobs to leave this one too. Besides, talking to the tributes is better than making outfits!

"So, what do you think?" I squeal.

"I look _sexy_ ," says Vaska, posing.

"Pretty generic," Venus says critically.

* * *

 **Alyse Thornton (F), District Seven**

I hate a lot of things. I hate blacks. I hate gays. I hate the Capitol. And I hate the districts. Lots of people see me as racist, sexist, and a variety of other things. I hate District Seven the most, probably because I'm stuck with it every year. It's a primped up little hellhole.

"I hate you," I say.

"Well I hate you too, bitch," Ivy snarls back.

"Um. Are we wearing _this?"_ Hideki says incredulously.

* * *

 **Mercury Weaver (M), District Eight**

I'm sure Panem is sick of fabrics, so I have a different idea this year. If it goes right, we might be one of the best outfits this year. If it goes wrong, Calico will end up getting impaled. Either way, it's a win for me.

"This looks dangerous," she says nervously.

"Oh my God," says Hudson, laughing, "This is _awesome_."

"Why, thank you," I say.

* * *

 **Ryker Clover (M), District Nine**

Usually the Nines are dressed as wheat, but I have a totally different idea this year. I spent a lot of time reviewing old tapes, and the best outfit of all time was the Twelves during the 74th Games. I'm totally going to use their idea.

"So this year you're wheat, with a twist!" I say. Avery and Matt glance at the design.

"You've got to be kidding me," says Matt.

"Are you _trying_ to kill us?" asks Avery, "It's fine to kill _him_ , just keep me safe."

* * *

 **Natalie Fawn (F), District Ten**

Farm animals don't work for older tributes, but it's perfect for mine. Catherine and Chander are adorable little cinnamon rolls that don't deserve to be here. All I can do is make them look amazing. They need sponsors if they want to win.

"How will I stand?" asks Chander.

"No baby, you'll be in your wheelchair," I say warmly, "There's no need to be ashamed. They'll love you."

"I told you!" squeaks Catherine.

* * *

 **Eleanor Preach (F), District Eleven**

"Let's think of something _good_ this year, alright?" I say cheerfully, "Now, who has any ideas?"

"WHAT?" cries Palata, "You don't have anything _planned_?"

Darren facepalms.

I didn't expect my tributes to react like this. I thought they'd _like_ getting input in the outfits this year. Maybe I was mistaken….. Oh well. Time to come up with an outfit.

* * *

 **Forge Grey (M), District Twelve**

They say I'm insane, but I'm not. I'm just a little too awesome for them to handle. Last night I partied until four in the morning, which probably wasn't a good idea the night before the parade. Anyways, I'm awake now.

"I have a killer hangover," I say, "So somebody better think of something."

"I got nothing," sighs Gordon.

"Welp, I have an idea!" I say, showing them my sketch. Sunny immediately starts crying.

* * *

 **Just a quick chapter to introduce the stylists. I suck at writing them, so I apologize if this sucks. I tried to keep it quick and vague. Chariot rides will be next.**

 **I don't have a question for this chapter, so just try to guess what some of the outfits will be!**


	19. Chariot Rides

**Hercules Morse, Games Announcer**

"Hello everyone, and welcome to this radio broadcast for the 116th Hunger Games Tribute Parade! I'm your host, Hercules Morse, here to illustrate the beauty of the chariot outfits that are delicately created by our wonderful Games stylists. We'll see outfits from the glamourous tributes of One, all the way down to the poorer tributes of Twelve. We hope to see a wide variety of good and bad outfits. It should be a good time!"

"First comes One, and it looks like we've found our first bad outfit! Jules is draped in a frilly white dress that's covered with cream-colored laces and cloth. Strings of pearls have been added to the arms and breast area. Overall, it looks like she's been wrapped in an old-fashioned blanket. What was Mozzi thinking? Nolan isn't much better in his matching suit. Both of them are owning the spotlight, waving and throwing roses to the audience. It's hard to ignore the Ones, even with their bad costumes."

"Here comes Two, and WOW! They're stunning! Cendko and Kiara have been painted a dark slate color that's been textured to look like stone. They have chain-mail and deadly swords that make them look like some sort of warrior statue pair. Cendko is waving his remaining arm at the audience, while Kiara remains emotionless and stoic. Strange, that's completely different from her angle during the Reapings. But definitely one of the best costumes we'll see all night! Props to Blaze for this amazing idea."

"BWAHAHA! This is hilarious! A robotic arm has been attached to the Three chariot, and it seems Mugger is clutched in its massive grip. He's dressed like a robot, complete with red buttons and fake metal pieces on his chest and arms. Sitting at a control panel is Moira, dressed like an engineer. She's grinning maliciously while moving the stick back and forth, sending Mugger flying every which way. His mouth is forced shut by the costume, so we don't have to listen to his screams! Thank you, Omarion, for putting Mugger in his place! That Moira is a creepy one…"

"The Fours are gorgeous! It's been done before, but it's still a classic! Lusi and Frank have been dressed as the King and Queen of Atlantis. Lusi's frilly blue dress is attached to some pipes that blend right in with the fabric. Water flows down her legs, ending up in a massive fountain that lines the railing of their chariot. Water shoots into the air and falls back to the chariot floor, where it's sucked back into the pipes for another cycle! Frank is completely bare except for a teenie tiny speedo that grips his fantastic butt cheeks. Overall, a glamorous outfit that's sure to make the Fours stand out for the rest of the Games!"

"WHOA! I've been blinded! The Fives are in black bodysuits that are strung with multi-colored lights. Sabrina pushes a button and BOOM! The entire chariot begins to glow with electricity! The lights on the tributes' suits begin to flash with multiple different colors, showering the audience with vibrant light! Sabrina looks a little flustered with all the people looking at her, while Dorian stands silent like a statue. The Fives are certainly a pair to look out for. Lico did a good job with these two."

"Owley's traditional train conductor outfit has been used once again! I'm sure the audience is sick of it by now, but they seem to love Vaska! His outfit is super tight fit with the whole stomach area cut off, displaying his rock solid abs for the whole world to see. He's flexing and being quite sexy. Venus looks a little annoyed that his armpits keep getting near her face, but she remains pleasant with the crowd. Overall, a decent outfit for an amazing pair of tributes."

"The Sevens are trees! How…..predictable. Ivy is a dull oak tree. Her whole body is encased in a cardboard trunk that prevents her from moving her arms and legs. Her head has been draped with a crown of green leaves that cascade down her face and shoulders. Hideki is a matching tree, except he's wearing a cape of leaves. Both of them look a little angry. Alyse will do that to you. OH! Ivy just toppled over and hit Hideki, sending him sprawling as well. How funny."

"Poor Calico is dressed in a dress made entirely out of needles. They overlap to form a beautiful silver gown that glimmers in the sunset. She's holding her arms stiffly at her sides, trying desperately not to impale herself on the sharp needles. I can see the sweat glimmering on her forehead from here. Hudson is a simple factory worker. He finds Calico's discomfort amusing, apparently. He's rudely making remarks such as, "Don't stab yourself. Save that for me!" If she wasn't so stiff, she might have slugged him."

"Oh my good Lord Jesus. What the hell has Ryker done this year? Matt and Avery are dressed as the standard wheat stalks of Nine, with a twist of course. Their heads are on fire. The wheat heads are on fire, I should say. Avery is screaming at the top of her lungs as she runs around in circles, while Matt desperately pats at the flames. It seems both of them have charred hair. What was Ryker thinking? How was this ever supposed to work? The audience throws them a few roses, but those burn as well. Avery should be the girl on fire. Unlike Katniss, she's actually on fire."

"The Tens are adorable! Catherine is dressed as a cute little lamb, with fluffy white wool that sticks out in every direction. An ember from the Nine chariot hits the wool and it begins to smolder, but luckily she's able to pat it out on time. She smiles and waves at the crowd like a natural, and they seem to love her judging by the amount of roses being thrown her way. Chander is a matching little pig, with a cute curly tail and big pink ears. He looks embarrassed to be in his wheelchair, but the crowd seems to love him equally. Those are two adorable little cinnamon rolls."

"As usual, Eleanor seems to have thrown her outfit together at the very last moment. Palata is wearing dull brown clothing with a farmer hat, and she seems to be dusted with soil. She's holding some sort of dental instrument, and she's smiling happily at the cheering crowd. Her teeth are so white! "Brown's Smiles" is plastered on her back in white ink. Darren is wearing a round red costume that's supposed to represent an apple. His face has been painted green to look like a stem. Wait….aren't the stems brown? I thought it was the leaves that were green. Regardless, the crowd seems to be bored."

"Whoa. WHOA. This hasn't been tried in years, folks. The Twelves are completely naked. They've been covered in black coal dust that was probably sitting in an old closet from years ago. Forge was out drinking all night, and like Eleanor, his outfits are usually last minute. Sunny looks horrified and her hands can't decide which part of her body they should cover. They jump from her stomach, to her breasts, and to her butt. Gordon just looks sort of dejected. Poor kids."

"Thank you for joining me today, and I look forward to seeing these tributes evolve and grow throughout the Games. This is Hercules Morse, signing off!"

* * *

 **I've seen this method of doing chariot rides in many stories, so I decided to do it as well. I came up with outfits myself, based on the stylists' personalities. I think we had a good mix of good and bad.**

 **1\. What was the best outfit?**

 **2\. What was the worst outfit?**

 **3\. What was the silliest outfit?**

 **4\. Which outfit was most memorable?**


	20. Training (Part One)

**Nolan Bronze (18), District One**

The Career pack is a little sad this year. For one thing, half of us are weak or argumental. Jules keeps glaring at me with her hate-filled eyes, which is understandable. I stole her family from her, after all. I just wish she'd accept that I'm the chosen Victor this year. Her father and sister love her, but they still spent years training me to perfection. They can't let all that go down the drain. Besides, they hardly pay attention to Jules. Nobody does.

Cendko seems a little off to me. He's supposedly weak because of his missing arm, but something about those intelligent-looking eyes makes me nervous. He's planning something, I just don't know what. Hopefully, I'll figure it out before the Games start. Kiara is a wildcard. Cendko told us that she was the chosen volunteer all along. Apparently, Irene was faking the whole "let Kiara die" incident. Kiara's angle was to play weak. I don't get how that's helpful now that we know, but I guess the Two mentors were just being dumb like usual.

Then there's Lusi and Frank. I expected them to challenge my leadership, but they seem surprisingly docile. They aren't fooling me, though; I know they're plotting behind my back. Lusi laughs at all Frank's jokes and he's always trying to make her smile. They're closely allied, and I can't have the pack divided within its ranks. I need to separate them as much as possible.

"Okay, let's split up and start covering stations," I say, "Since Kiara is playing weak, she can check out the survival stations. Learn about finding food and shelter in case we need that knowledge later on. Cendko, go with Frank to the trident station. Maybe you can pick up a few tips. Jules and Lusi, go to the throwing knives and scare some of the outliers. I'll be at archery. Are we clear?"

The others agree, and we all go our separate directions. It feels good to be the leader.

I head straight to the archery station, and luckily there's only one tribute there. I get most of the station to myself. The boy from Seven is talking to the instructor, and he's learning how to hold a bow. I think his name is Hideki. He's not a bad shot. Most of his arrows hit the target, even if they're not dead center.

"Do you need help?" the lady asks me.

"Pfft," I scoff, "I've been shooting arrows since I was seven. Let me show you how it's done." I take the bow from her and start to fire arrow after arrow. Each one hits the bullseye, except for a few that come pretty damn close. Hideki stares at me with wide eyes.

"Hey, think you could give me some pointers?" he asks.

"No," I say, "Stop whatever act you're trying to play and prepare to die. I'm a Career, and you're a district runt. It's only a matter of time, buddy, so enjoy life while it lasts."

He looks shocked, but I snort and walk away to check on the pack. What did Hideki expect? Did he think Nolan Bronze, leader of the Career pack and future Victor of District One was going to help him shoot an arrow? Keep dreaming, bud.

* * *

 **Kiara Wong (16), District Two**

Without Cendko, I would be doomed. He thought up the idea of me being the "chosen volunteer", and it seems to be working so far. Nolan let me in the Careers without any questions, which was better than we could have hoped for. Obviously, Irene was the chosen volunteer. Cendko figured I was no good at acting arrogant or tough, so we decided I'd be emotionless and stoic. That allowed me to be scared on the inside without anyone knowing.

And boy am I scared.

The Tribute Parade went okay, considering Cendko and I had one of the best outfits. The crowd focused mainly on him, but I think I managed to interest a few sponsors as well. I'm certainly not going to impress them during the Games. I need to be amazing during my interview to stand any chance of stealing the sponsors from Cendko. My district partner is nice and all, but he's in it to win it. If it comes down to me and him, he'd kill me in a heartbeat. I need to make myself stand out before it's too late.

Survival skills are definitely my thing. I learn how to start a fire, build a few types of shelters, and identify wild berries. Now I'm heading to the snares. Once we reach the final twelve or so, I need to start picking off the bigger threats. Setting a trap at the Cornucopia would be perfect. I can set my trap while the others are out hunting, then run away. The sponsors will notice me, but I can stay out of danger at the same time.

"Can you teach me to set up something quick and easy?" I say, "I might need to set it up on short notice."

"Sure thing!" says the training lady.

For the next half hour, I learn all about snares. I learn how to catch rabbits, squirrels, and humans. Most of the human traps are designed to hold the person until you come along and kill them. Those are my least favorite ones. My favorite ones are the ones designed to kill. Then I don't have to kill the tribute myself. Unfortunately, most of the deadly snares require more complex materials, such as barbed wire and nets.

"Where can I learn to make rope?" I ask. All of the snares required a rope, even the deadly ones. The lady directed me to the material-making station, where a sad old man absentmindedly picked at a rope. His face brightened when he saw me.

"Finally!" he exclaimed, "You know Miss, material-making is a mighty useful skill. You're the smartest one here! Everyone else thinks this is a dumb station."

I smile sweetly. "Thank you. Would you mind teaching me to make rope?"

At the end of the training day, I'm satisfied. I have a variety of survival skills under my wing, as well as a method of protecting myself. Irene may have sentenced me to death, but that doesn't mean I have to lay down and die. Those days are over. Kiara Wong is going out with a bang.

* * *

 **Mugger Rootshorn (17), District Three**

Hudson and I get along just fine. He agrees that girls are worse than boys, so he's immediately one of my favorite people here. The two of us halfheartedly rub some sticks together at the fire-making station, but we're really sharing stories about kids we've bullied. I tell him about the girl I slapped at one of my concerts, and he tells me about some boy he punched in the lip. Then I teach him my songs and we start to sing about girls being inferior.

"Hey, wanna know what would be really fun?" I say.

"What?"

"See the twig girl? What if we made her think she's fat?"

"Oh dude, that rocks!"

For the rest of the day, we terrorize Sunny, who sobs endlessly at our jeering. She's thinner than a toothpick, but we don't have to tell her that. Whenever she tries to escape to the bathroom, Hudson and I block her exit. She's helpless.

"You're so fat that you won't fit in the tubes!" I jeer, "You'll be the first tribute to die before seeing the arena!"

"You're so ugly that your mother had to be drunk to breastfeed you!" Hudson yells.

The other tributes certainly don't appreciate the art of bullying. Just before lunch, Hudson's district partner grabs Sunny by the hand and pulls her to the edible plants station. It looks like Palata, Calico, Sabrina, and Sunny are forming some sort of alliance. Whenever we approach them, Calico threatens to report us to the instructors. Peacekeepers are the only things that scare me. Peacekeepers are the bullying gods.

Now that we can't bully Sunny, Hudson and I decide to master a weapon. We both grab knives, and the training instructor lets out a groan. Clearly, he doesn't want to teach us. It's because we're awesome.

"First, hold the knife with your dominant hand," drones the instructor. I get bored, so I hurl the knife at the target with a cry of concentration. It glances off the wooden target, flies through the air, and slams into the forcefield in front of the Gamemakers. They let out cries of shock and fear. Hudson and I crack up, pointing and jeering at the wimpy purple-robed men and women.

"Dude, you're better than Mark and Dave," I say, "They're my bodyguards."

"Sweet! You have bodyguards?" exclaims Hudson.

I soak up his amazement like a greedy sponge. It sure is great to be popular.

* * *

 **Lusitania "Lusi" Bream (18), District Four**

Tilapia and Darren warned us that Nolan might split us up. He's bound to recognize our close relationship, and any competent person would see that it gives us an advantage. Frank and I don't care. We still get to see each other every night. Training just gives us an opportunity to get the know the other Careers, so we can dispatch them when the time is right.

Jules needs to go first. Her likable exterior doesn't fool me. Obviously, she's cold and calculating on the inside, and I see how she looks at Nolan. He's less of a threat than her. Jules is unpredictable, but Nolan is an open book. That's exactly why he needs to stay longer than her. If Jules takes out Nolan, she'll be the leader of the Careers. That gives her the perfect opportunity to take us out, which I can't allow.

We were right about Kiara. Her "angle" is bullshit. Everyone except Nolan has realized it, but nobody wants to do anything about it. Kiara is the biggest target in the Careers, and we all like that sense of security. If things start to go south, she's the first one everyone will take out. Cendko is a little more unpredictable, but there's no way he could beat any of us in a fight.

"So, when did you start training?" I ask Jules.

"Since the day I was born," she replies, "Astoria was my idol. When she won, I knew I wanted to be just like her. But my parents always wanted a son. They paid more attention to August, so I did most of my training alone."

"That's pretty rough," I say, "Training was never my top priority. My father is a Capitolite, so my love of the Games was always there. It's in my blood. Volunteering was the only thing better than watching them."

We throw knife after knife into the targets, and I realize that we're evenly matched. Nolan told us to scare the other tributes, and we're certainly doing our job. Darren is eyeing us nervously while Catherine and Chander openly sob at the sight of us. Then there are people like Dorian who glare daggers our way. He's some sort of vigilante. Apparently, he hates villains, and we're as close to villains as you can get. We'll have to watch out for him.

Lunch comes, and I scope out the room with interest. Lunch is the best way to spot alliances before they happen. Calico, Sabrina, Palata, and Sunny are nervously glancing our way, so they must be allies. So are Catherine and Chander. Hudson and Mugger are allied, but I'm not worried about them. They're complete imbeciles. Matt and Darren seem to be talking, but I doubt they're allied. They seem like the loner type. The Sixes are talking as well. Everyone else is scattered around the room.

We're the strongest alliance here. Nobody in this room could beat us in a fair fight.

There's nothing else I can do to prepare myself. All that's left is to win.

* * *

 **I might not update tomorrow because I'm getting my braces off. Yay! Everyone cheer for me. It's been a long two and a half years.**

 **1\. Will Nolan successfully lead the Careers?**

 **2\. How far will Kiara's "angle" get her?**

 **3\. Will Mugger and Hudson survive the bloodbath?**

 **4\. Who seems stronger, Lusi or Jules?**

 **5\. Overall, who seem like the biggest threats? Which Career will last the longest? Are we looking at a Career victory this year?**


	21. Training (Part Two)

**Dorian Fritz (18), District Five**

Look at them. They're savages.

Back at home, dragging criminals to jail was fun. But here, it just spells my doom. There's no way a single boy can take out six Careers during the bloodbath, but I intend to try. They're training to murder children. I can't stand for that. I'm a good person at heart, despite my prickly and cold exterior. I always stand for what is right, and _this_ isn't right.

"You can't make so many enemies, Dorian," says Sabrina as we walk to training. "Seriously. You won't make a difference by killing just _one._ Pick your battles."

"I can't," I say, "I won't run away while innocent children are being murdered. It's not right."

" _None_ of this is right!" Sabrina exclaims, "Killing _them_ isn't right either."

She has a point, but I can't bring myself to accept it. If I'm going to die, I might as well take out the bigger threats. Some little kid will stand more of a chance. Besides, I wouldn't want to be the victor. Victors have to become murderers, and murderers are as bad as they come. I'd rather be known as the hero that killed big bad Nolan. Or the savior of some little girl. There's too much darkness in this world, and I'll be satisfied if I can cause a single spark of hope. Hope brings rebellion, and that's all the districts need to defy the Capitol.

It happened in the 75th Games. They've banned the tapes, but we all know the story. The Capitol tried to disguise the blacked out screens as a malfunction. They told us that the entire system crashed, causing the arena to collapse. So many good souls died, including Katniss. But there's a rumor that she escaped, that she managed to create a small spark of rebellion. My mother always told me it was extinguished before it could grow into a roaring flame. _My_ rebellion won't be extinguished. I'll die and create a legacy that anyone can defy the Careers, which is just a smaller analogy for defeating the Capitol.

I'm already a good fighter, but my skills need to improve. I tackle the sword station, followed by the knife and mace stations. I don't spend time on survival stations. I either capture the Cornucopia or go down fighting.

"Hey, you seem pretty strong," says Darren, smiling. "Care to ally?"

Poor soul. I can't let him go down with me. I turn him down and walk away without a word. People like him should be back home with their families, not suffering in the Games. That's exactly why they need to come to an end. No child will ever have to fear the Reaping if the districts step up and defend themselves. People will die, but nothing is gained from being afraid.

I hope Sabrina wins the Games. She's kind, nice, and beautiful. I want someone from home to carry on my legacy.

* * *

 **Venus Albryte (14), District Six**

"Then you-"

"Find the-," she says.

"Cosine-"

"OF FIFTY-FOUR!" we say in union. Moira and I high-five, laughing quietly to ourselves. I scribble down the answer on our paper and hand it to the instructor, who looks completely amazed. Usually, tributes aren't this smart. Moira and I hit it off right away, going to all the intelligence stations and learning everything we can. She's good at science and I'm good at math. Together, we're an unstoppable duo. I would ally with her, but Vaska won't allow it. He says there's only room for one bloodthirsty tribute in the Games, which is true.

I'm not Vaska's slave. I'm simply listening to him until the time is right. He thinks he's the boss of me, but it's not very hard to slip a poisonous plant into his drink or food. I can take him out whenever, so I figured it can't hurt to be friendly with Moira in case I meet up with her in the arena.

"I'm going to some survival stations," I say, pointing at the other end of the room. "It was nice talking to you. Maybe we can eat lunch together."

Moira simply nods. She doesn't talk unless absolutely necessary. I stand up and walk towards the only unoccupied survival station. Weapon making is a highly underrated skill. So many tributes are swinging knives around, Vaska included, but they don't even consider the possibility of zero weapons in the Cornucopia. It's happened before, and I wouldn't put it past the Gamemakers to try it again. Being able to make my own spear or bow could be the difference between life and death.

The instructor shows me the most basic weapon to make, which is the sling. All you need is a simple piece of cloth. Put a rock in the cloth, swing it around, release one end and huzzah. You have a weapon. I practice with the sling for a while until I'm proficient. Then I learn which types of wood can be used to make a bow. Willow branches are flexible and durable, perfect for a bow. Shoestrings or drawstring cord can be used for the string.

"Thank you very much," I say to the instructor.

My eyes quickly dart around the room, taking in the actions of all the other tributes. Vaska is brutally cutting some dummies with a knife. The Careers are scattered around at different weapon stations. The allied girls from Five, Eight, Eleven, and Twelve are identifying plants. The Tens are reading survival books. The boys from Eleven and Five are on the track. The boys from Three and Eight are bullying an old instructor lady. Overall, a dangerous set of tributes. Only the Careers stand out in my mind, but Moira and the boy from Five are serious competitors as well.

For the rest of the day, I observe. Everyone has a weakness. You just need to take the time to discover it.

* * *

 **Hideki Ora (15), District Seven**

The key to winning the Games is having a relationship with every tribute. I've talked to almost everyone that seems remotely nice. The only people I haven't talked to are the Sixes, the Threes, the boy from Eight, and the Careers. Everyone else knows me by name. I'm fairly confident that almost everyone will recognize me in the arena. Most of them might even take me in. Manipulating and clinging to alliances like a parasite is my only chance.

Sabrina, Calico, Palata, and Sunny have agreed to take me in if I meet them in the arena. I talked to them at the edible plants station, and they all seem interested in my skill set. I'm good at archery and building shelters, which are two unusual skills that every alliance can benefit from. They're my main target in the arena because everybody knows there's safety in numbers. Hang around with the girls and suddenly I'm no longer a target. The Careers always go after the big alliances last.

I tried talking to Nolan, but he's a lost cause. I don't know how I'm going to take out the Careers. I haven't gotten that far yet. I keep holding to the hope that I'll figure it out eventually, but that's looking less and less likely.

"Excuse me, Miss," I say to Ivy from behind, "But would you care to join me for lunch?" I say it in a deep accent, and even Ms. Feisty Pants can't help but laugh. She looks at me like I'm completely mental, but I don't care. I've received a lot of weird looks in my time as a jokester.

"Fine," she says, "But drop the accent."

"Consider it done," I say, still with the accent.

Ivy rolls her eyes. We sit down with a lunch tray and begin to eat, aware of the chattering tributes surrounding us. The Careers are acting boisterous and tough, while the Tens are crying softly and drawing pictures. The rest are eating and talking quietly. I'm utterly terrified of the Games, but at least I stand more of a chance than some of these fools. Mugger and Hudson specifically. If I play my cards right, I could win this thing.

"So, what stations have you been to?" Ivy asks.

I shrug. "Here and there. What about you?"

"Same."

You'd think I would feel comfortable talking to my district partner, but it's actually quite awkward. Neither of us trusts the other. That needs to change right now.

"Listen," I say, "You're from my home. If I die, I want you to win. Truce?"

She thinks for a moment, then nods. "Truce. Just give my mother money if you win."

"Give my parents money if _you_ win," I reply.

* * *

 **Calico Damask (14), District Eight**

"We should split up for the next hour," I say, "That way we can all pick up a different skill. Does anyone have ideas?"

"I'll take fire-making," says Sabrina.

"Sunny can come with me to snares," says Palata, "Then Mugger won't bother her."

"Sounds good," I say, "I'll take knife throwing. Someone needs to learn a weapon. Then I can teach you."

I feel a lot more confident about my chances now that I have an alliance. Yesterday I was terrified at the prospect of the Games, but now I see it as a massive math problem. All twenty-four tributes are variables. The Gamemakers are a variable. Luck is also a variable. If I plug them in the right order, then the equation will make sense. Today's all about figuring out the variables so I can plan my strategy accordingly.

I've learned three things so far. Number one, I can't count on my allies at all. Sunny's a crybaby, Palata is too hard on herself, and Sabrina is too average. They won't stand out or gain sponsors. Most of them will probably die in the bloodbath. To win the Hunger Games, I need to think all original thoughts. I can't trust any of them to lead me.

Number two, the world sucks. I can't stop glancing at Catherine and Chander, two little kids that are way too innocent for the Games. Who decided to make children fight to the death? Killing adults is one thing, but killing children is just wrong. We have our whole lives ahead of us, from little Catherine to big Cendko. None of us should be murderers at such a young age.

And third, I really like potato stew. I tried it on the train, and now I adore it with a burning passion.

Knife throwing requires a lot of mental preparation and focus. The instructor first teaches me the proper stance, which I master instantly. Then we move on to throwing form, and finally, throwing the knives. My first knife misses the target entirely, but my shots get better and better over time. Soon all of my knives are thunking into the wood.

"You're a natural!" exclaims the instructor.

I just wish I didn't have to use it. The thought of killing another human being is horrifying.

Gulping, I wander off to find my allies. We might get separated after the chaotic bloodbath. It's best to teach them some basic principles of knife throwing.

I just hope they don't need to use it.

* * *

 **Howdy. This chapter isn't my best work, but I didn't have nearly as much time today. Wanna know why? Of course you do; my life is super interesting. I got my braces off! Yay!**

 **1\. Will Dorian take out any Careers? Will he even make it past the bloodbath?**

 **2\. Will Venus manage to take out Vaska? Will she meet Moira in the arena?**

 **3\. Will anyone see through Hideki's strategy?**

 **4\. Which member of Calico's alliance stands the best chance?**


	22. Training (Part Three)

**Matt Sickle (17), District Nine**

Finding an ally is now my top priority. Avery has made it very clear that she's targeting me in the bloodbath. She's stronger than me physically, even if I'm superior in every other aspect. I'm not really a physical person. But with an ally, beating Avery won't be nearly as difficult or dangerous. The trick is finding a loyal ally.

I've considered Dorian, but he's too reckless. He's more likely to rage after his own enemies than help me. Venus and Vaska are another option, but I find them…..creepy to say the least. Same goes for Moira. The Sevens are slightly too weak to beat her, and the girl alliance won't be loyal enough. The Tens are much too weak, the two bullies are too stupid, and the Twelves are oblivious. Then the Careers are obvious. That leaves one tribute.

Darren.

He's strong, intensely loyal to those he cares about, and level-headed. He and I contrast in a good way, and I think we can both benefit from each other's protection. Having him around will give me a sense of security that nobody else can replicate.

"Hey Darren," I say, approaching the camouflage station. "I've been watching you, and I think I want to be allies."

"What do I gain?" he asks without even looking up. His strong hands are surprisingly delicate, and he manages to create intricate swirls on his arm to represent grass.

"Protection," I say, remembering the speech I prepared in my head. "The Careers go after loners first. They're less likely to go after an alliance, especially an alliance of two strong guys like us."

He thinks for a moment, then nods without a word. I'm unsure of how he'll react when he hears my one condition. I'm afraid I'll drive him away for good, but nobody wins the Hunger Games without taking risks.

"Listen," I say, "My district partner sort of wants to murder me at the first opportunity. Would you be willing to help?"

I have no clue how loyal Darren really is, but for some reason, he says yes. He might abandon me, he might stab me in my sleep, and he might leave me to die. But he could also help me kill Avery. Allying with Darren is an insanely big risk, but I'm willing to take it for my own survival. For some reason, I trust him. I don't know why or how, but I do. Something about his nature assures me that I've found a genuine ally.

Avery shoots me a dirty glance from across the room, and I shudder uncomfortably. Can't she see that we'd be stronger together? I'm a calm and generally laid back person. I don't hold grudges or yell unless it's justified. I understand that our gangs are rivals, but this is the Hunger Games for crying out loud. We've found a common enemy. I wish she'd see things the way I do.

For once, can't we just set rivalries aside?

* * *

 **Catherine Hill (12), District Ten**

Chander is my best friend in the whole wide world. Back in District Ten, I never had friends. _Nobody_ had friends. Most kids were too poor to attend school, so families tend to bond together and ignore the outside world. My only friends were my younger siblings. Even though Chander and I were in the same year, we had never met until now. Talk about seclusion.

Neither of us can fight, so we decided to focus mainly on survival. We went to the fire-making station, but the instructor was a little nutty. Now we've settled on reading survival _books._ We're still learning, but we don't have to deal with any crazy Capitol people. Only a few hours had passed before we grew bored of this. It was much more fun to paint or draw pictures in the corner.

"I'm bored," says Chander, "Wanna play pranks on the other tributes?"

"That doesn't seem like a good idea," I say, nervously, "Won't that make them mad?"

"Pfft, nah. They'll just laugh."

Lusi is our first target. She's in the pool and unknowingly left her shoes to the side. I dart in, grab the shoes, and dive behind a trash can. Chander has a container of cream cheese all ready. We shove the squishy substance into the shoes and replace them in their previous position. I giggle uncontrollably as Chander desperately tries to get me to shut up.

A slender figure emerges from the water, gleaming under the white lights. She almost looks like a fish. She certainly _swims_ like one. Lusi towels off, throws a shirt and shorts over her suit, and slides her shoes over her bare feet. Her face is priceless.

"Very funny!" she yells as we scurry away. Lusi halfheartedly throws some water in our direction, so I push Chander's wheelchair super fast. We crash into the spear station, sending mountains of metal crashing down on poor Chander. He yells out curse words, and a few instructors rush over to get the racks off of him. I help, but my arms are too weak to move the metal pieces.

"You okay?" I say, giggling.

He rolls his eyes. "Not a scratch. You're lucky it was just the racks. Otherwise I'd be a porcupine."

"What's a porcupine?"

We amuse ourselves for the rest of the day by looking at pictures of porcupines. I'd never heard of them before. Apparently they have _spikes_ growing out of their back. At first I feel bad for them, but then Chander tells me it protects them from predators. _We_ have predators, too. The Careers are more dangerous than a stupid eagle or coyote.

"Hey, maybe becoming a porcupine isn't such a bad idea!" I say.

* * *

 **Darren Whitaker (18), District Eleven**

Now that I have an ally, my bloodbath strategy becomes much simpler. Matt will grab all the supplies we need, and I'll protect him from Avery while he does so. She's a tough opponent, but I know I can beat her. Without a weapon, she's small and frail. Having a sharp tongue doesn't intimidate me unless you have the strength to back it up. Killing is a completely different issue. I don't think I can kill a girl so early in the Games. There's no point in becoming a monster if I don't have to. Right now I'm planning to strike her in the back of the head. Then she'll be as good as dead anyways.

Tarren is always in the back of my mind. She needs me to come home. My five siblings need their brother. Killing is wrong, but I'm willing to do it for a better life. If I win, we'll never have to worry about food or money. My siblings can grow up with a good education and get good jobs. We can leave the Hunger Games behind us for good. There's always the chance of my siblings getting Reaped, but their chances drop significantly if we avoid tesserae.

I have a strategy and I know who I'm fighting for. All that's left is to play my cards right and win this thing. I'm strong, so I know I stand a good shot at winning.

"Darren," says Matt, "Do you want to learn survival? I can do weapons."

I shake my head. Does he think I'm an idiot? Matt doesn't fool me one bit. Keeping me away from the weapon stations won't make me any less deadly. He's only using me to kill Avery, and once she's gone I'm on his kill list. I'll help him kill Avery, but only so I have protection in the bloodbath. After that I'll either abandon or kill him. Matt is the type of person that plays with people's minds. I can't let myself fall into his traps.

"No," I say, "I've been at survival all day. It's your turn now."

He nods begrudgingly. "Okay. But we'll switch later?"

"We'll see."

I'm trying to keep my interactions with Matt to a minimum. I know I'll have to kill him eventually, and growing close to him will only make it harder. Plus, Matt certainly isn't my friend. We're both using each other for our own benefit, and once Avery's gone it's a tossup. Whoever has the best strategy will come one step closer to winning. Matt will only beat me in an unfair fight, so I need to constantly be on guard. When the moment is right, I'll strike.

Hopefully he won't even see it coming.

* * *

 **Sunny Cole (15), District Twelve**

My alliance has given me quite the wake-up-call, and I don't know what to believe anymore. They tell me I need to get my head in the game, which seems like a true statement. But then they go and tell me that I'm too skinny and need to eat. That I _know_ to be false. Trusting them has been difficult since I never know if they're telling the truth or lying. I've decided to judge each situation individually to determine if I should believe them.

First they told me to go to survival stations, which seems reasonable. I'm not fast enough for fighting, and my large frame will only give the attacker a bigger target. Palata and I learn snares together, but then we split up to cover more ground. Mugger and Hudson are bored of bullying me, which is a relief. I don't need them rubbing it in my face.

"Excuse me," I say to an instructor, "Could you help me come up with a strategy?"

This station is labeled _Ask us questions!._ The five instructors that work there are dressed in yellow jumpsuits and are apparently versatile survivalists. They know a mix of all the stations, and their job is to help tributes with whatever questions they might have. I still can't figure out a half decent strategy, so I'm depending on the instructors to help me. My mentors aren't much help, anyways. They tell me the same things as my alliance, and I'm sick of listening to their lies.

"Well, what are you good at?" the instructors asks.

"Nothing," I say immediately.

He laughs. "You're the eating disorder girl, aren't you?" I flinch at his words, and tears well up in my eyes. Why does everyone keep saying that? I eat too _much_ , not too little. Why does everyone lie to me? "Never mind. First lesson, stop being so hard on yourself," the instructor says.

"Wh-what?" I ask timidly.

"I said stop being so _hard_ on yourself," he says, laughing, "You're a beautiful girl, don't get me wrong. But appearances don't matter in the Games. Nobody cares how you look. Focus more on winning the Games, and then you can have all the surgeries you want. But starving yourself won't do anything. You need a little confidence."

The instructor grabs me by the arm and drags me out of the training room. I'm handed over to a stylist I've never met, who immediately begins ranting about how gorgeous my hair is. Her name is Velvet. I'm put in a beautiful yellow sundress with matching yellow heels. Before I can ask any questions, I'm shoved into a car. I've never been in a car before.

"Get out there and strut your stuff!" Velvet says when we arrive, "This is a Capitol fashion party! It's where famous stylists show off their outfits. There's a red carpet and everything. The best models in the world are here! You belong with them."

I'm petrified, but I can't humiliate myself in front of thousands of people. For the rest of the afternoon I walk around on the stage, showing off a variety of Velvet's outfits. The crowd goes crazy, and for the first time I truly feel beautiful.

Drew is sure to notice me now.

* * *

 **If you noticed any mistakes in this chapter, it's because it's unedited. I know I said I'd never do that again, but today I was very rushed. Please point out mistakes in the reviews, and I'll try to fix them tomorrow when I have more time.**

 **Sorry for the wait. I should be on a roll until the bloodbath. I'm aiming for Friday, but we'll see.**

 **1\. Is Matt too trusting of Darren? Will this be his downfall?**

 **2\. Do the Tens stand any chance? Will they be bloodbaths?**

 **3\. Who will last longer, Darren or Matt?**

 **4\. What do you think of the instructor's actions? Will making Sunny feel beautiful help her get her head in the game?**


	23. Private Session Report

**HEAD GAMEMAKER JAY PUPBOTTOM**

 **PRIVATE SESSION REPORT**

 **TO: PRESIDENT REGINALD TIBERIUS**

* * *

DISTRICT ONE MALE

 **NAME:** NOLAN BRONZE

 **SKILLS DEMONSTRATED:** Sword fighting, knife throwing, wrestling

 **ASSESSMENT:** Nolan demonstrated a wide variety of physical skills. He faced one of our best instructors in a sword fighting duel and emerged victorious. Then he threw knives at targets, all of which hit the bullseye. Finally, he wrestled a trainer to the ground in under two minutes.

 **STRENGTHS:** Sword fighting, knife throwing, hand to hand, mentor's favorite

 **WEAKNESSES:** Too cocky and arrogant. Not the brightest bulb on the string. He leads by force, which could give him many enemies. Plus Jules has it out for him.

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** Bloodthirsty, but only because he wants to win. He's not a maniac or anything.

 **ODDS:** 13:1

 **SCORE:** 11

 **NOTES:** He'll be one of the first to go with that know-it-all attitude. I'll almost be glad to see him gone. What a brute.

* * *

DISTRICT ONE FEMALE

 **NAME:** JULIET MOHR

 **SKILLS DEMONSTRATED:** Hand on hand combat

 **ASSESSMENT:** Jules spent her entire fifteen minutes taking down instructors with nothing but her bare hands. A few of them screamed and cried for mercy. In the end she defeated seventeen, nine of which were sent to the hospital with bruises and fractures.

 **STRENGTHS:** Hand on hand, mentors are her family

 **WEAKNESSES:** She has obvious anger issues that she manages with training. Training helps her stay calm, but we feel she'll have trouble managing it in the Games. Her family also neglects her.

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** Gets angry easily as a result of constant neglect from her family.

 **ODDS:** 14:1

 **SCORE:** 10

 **NOTES:** It'll be hard to stay calm in the Games, hun. (Astoria was prettier…and nicer…..)

* * *

DISTRICT TWO MALE

 **NAME:** CENDKO PILLARS

 **SKILLS DEMONSTRATED:** Sword fighting, hand on hand, knife throwing

 **ASSESSMENT:** Cendko first told us to pay attention and stop underestimating him, since a few Gamemakers were eating pie and gossiping. Then he demolished training instructors with sword fighting and hand on hand combat. After that he explained that he uses knife throwing in place of archery, since he only has one hand. He's pretty darn good at that too.

 **STRENGTHS:** Most forms of combat that only require one hand, very social and seems to be popular among pack members (he's nobody's first target)

 **WEAKNESSES:** Missing an arm, as well as several other injuries. The other Careers look down on him for this.

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** Nobody knows how he was injured, but it's possible he suffered mental trauma that he's covering with calmness and a level head.

 **ODDS:** 18:1

 **SCORE:** 10

 **NOTES:** I think he's very underestimated. He and his district partner could be the underdogs this year.

* * *

DISTRICT TWO FEMALE

 **NAME:** KIARA WONG

 **SKILLS DEMONSTRATED:** Identifying plants, snares, katana

 **ASSESSMENT:** At first we thought Kiara's session would be boring, since she started out with identifying plants. She did a good job, but you can't be engaging while reciting crazy names I've never heard of. Then she built a snare and caught an instructor. His face was priceless. Finally, she showed us some basic katana knowledge that she picked up from the other Careers.

 **STRENGTHS:** Survival skills, her "angle", katana

 **WEAKNESSES:** Obviously not the chosen volunteer, suicidal past, physically weak

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** She's a bully victim, so she's suffered with depression and suicidal thoughts for most of her life. The fact that she's still alive and trying to survive shows us that she's hardened up over the past few days.

 **ODDS:** 19:1

 **SCORE:** 8

 **NOTES:** I can't believe Irene didn't volunteer.

* * *

DISTRICT THREE MALE

 **NAME:** MUGGER ROOTSHORN

 **SKILLS DEMONSTRATED:** Failing at life

 **ASSESSMENT:** As Mugger was walking towards us, he tripped and busted his nose on the tile. He also knocked himself out, which was wonderful. Medics had to rush him to the hospital and he had no private session.

 **STRENGTHS:** He has an ally?

 **WEAKNESSES:** Lots of enemies. And everyone hates him.

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** We believe it's bad parenting that made him so…...unlikable.

 **ODDS:** 50:1

 **SCORE:** 0

 **NOTES:** I don't even feel bad for you.

* * *

DISTRICT THREE FEMALE

 **NAME:** MOIRA LOCKE

 **SKILLS DEMONSTRATED:** Bombs

 **ASSESSMENT:** Moira walked straight to the electronics table and began fiddling with wire and metal pieces. After about ten minutes, she walked over and detonated a small electric bomb. It scared the jeebies out of me.

 **STRENGTHS:** Sneaky, bomb-making

 **WEAKNESSES:** Everyone will be wary of her.

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** Nobody knows why she's so nuts. It's possible that trauma from her parents' deaths could have caused this.

 **ODDS:** 20:1

 **SCORE:** 9

 **NOTES:** I heard she tortured three boys to death. That's messed up. (P.S. Kill Mugger)

* * *

DISTRICT FOUR MALE

 **NAME:** FRANK TIDES

 **SKILLS DEMONSTRATED:** Traps, trident

 **ASSESSMENT:** Frank walked in and began sparring with a training instructor. He beat her with a trident. Then he began spearing dummies in the stomach with the three prongs. Finally, he built an elaborate trap that left a dummy hanging by one leg.

 **STRENGTHS:** Trident, traps, very social and friendly

 **WEAKNESSES:** People are suspicious of him and Lusi. They'll be the first targets in the Careers. He also wasn't the chosen volunteer.

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** Clean

 **ODDS:** 14:1

 **SCORE:** 10

 **NOTES:** He volunteered for his brother. How cute.

* * *

DISTRICT FOUR FEMALE

 **NAME:** LUSITANIA BREAM

 **SKILLS DEMONSTRATED:** Spear, dagger, swimming

 **ASSESSMENT:** Lusi first threw her spears at targets. Then she switched to daggers. All her throws were flawless. Next she sparred a training instructor with a dagger, performing excellently once again. Finally, she hopped in the pool and showed her swimming abilities.

 **STRENGTHS:** Many weapons, swimming, physically capable

 **WEAKNESSES:** More reserved and shy than most Careers. Like Frank, she's a huge target.

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** Clean

 **ODDS:** 17:1

 **SCORE:** 9

 **NOTES:** She lookin' _fine_ in that bathing suit.

* * *

DISTRICT FIVE MALE

 **NAME:** DORIAN FRITZ

 **SKILLS DEMONSTRATED:** Screaming?

 **ASSESSMENT:** Dorian immediately began to scream at us Gamemakers as soon as he entered the room. He called us a variety of fun things, but most of it was directed around "murdering children". When his time was up, he left the room without a word.

 **STRENGTHS:** Physically capable, has experience with weapons

 **WEAKNESSES:** Reckless and seems to be targeting Careers. He also angered most of the Gamemakers, myself included.

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** His father has cheated on his mother many times, and catching criminals exposed him to many bad things. But we believe he's fairly unaffected.

 **ODDS:** 29:1

 **SCORE:** 1

 **NOTES:** We don't kill the children, bud. That's _your_ job.

* * *

DISTRICT FIVE FEMALE

 **NAME:** SABRINA VOLTA

 **SKILLS DEMONSTRATED:** Fire-making, dagger

 **ASSESSMENT:** Sabrina first built a roaring bonfire with a few sticks and some flint. It caught the edible plants station on fire, but the Peacekeepers were quick to put it out. Then she did some basic dagger work, effectively dispatching a few dummies.

 **STRENGTHS:** Making fire (she's _too_ good)

 **WEAKNESSES:** Not particularly strong

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** Cleaner than clean

 **ODDS:** 32:1

 **SCORE:** 5

 **NOTES:** You almost gave me a heart attack.

* * *

DISTRICT SIX MALE

 **NAME:** VASKA NAPIER

 **SKILLS DEMONSTRATED:** Club

 **ASSESSMENT:** Vaska murderously smashed dummies to pieces with a wooden club. His craving for blood was so strong that he began licking the fake blood inside the dummies. Once he was done, he threw the club at us. Luckily, we have a force field to protect us.

 **STRENGTHS:** Club (obviously), other weapons, fighting in general

 **WEAKNESSES:** Craving for blood? Is that a weakness? We think it'll get him in some nasty situations. He's also reckless. Gamemaker intervention is possible if he gets out of hand.

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** Nobody knows, to be honest, but definitely not clean. He has a craving for blood that which him insane, but he's collected at the same time. We're just going to classify him as a "maniac smart dude".

 **ODDS:** 17:1

 **SCORE:** 7

 **NOTES:** Somebody get him some chickens before he hurts someone.

* * *

DISTRICT SIX FEMALE

 **NAME:** VENUS ALBRYTE

 **SKILLS DEMONSTRATED:** Plant identification, knot tying

 **ASSESSMENT:** Venus began by taking a few plant quizzes, but all her scores were below seventy percent. Then she tied a few crappy knots, most of which fell apart in her grasp. Then she walked out, smiling.

 **STRENGTHS:** She's smarter than she's letting on.

 **WEAKNESSES:** People will look down on her. She's also physically weak.

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** We believe she's clean, but it's possible she's suffered mental scarring from hanging around a gang.

 **ODDS:** 36:1

 **SCORE:** 3

 **NOTES:** We know she's smarter than this, but we'll give her a low score anyways. Let's see what the other tributes think of her.

* * *

DISTRICT SEVEN MALE

 **NAME:** HIDEKI ORA

 **SKILLS DEMONSTRATED:** Axe, climbing

 **ASSESSMENT:** Hideki explained that he had basic axe knowledge from working in District Seven. He then proceeded to destroy dummies, but it was sloppy. It's obvious he's used to _working_ with an axe, not weaponizing it. Then he did some climbing, which was decent.

 **STRENGTHS:** Climbing, basic axe knowledge, above average social skills

 **WEAKNESSES:** Not very strong, others might see through his strategy.

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** Cleaner than freshly washed undies.

 **ODDS:** 28:1

 **SCORE:** 6

 **NOTES:** It's nice to see a Seven male that's not muscular, good with an axe, and antisocial. Hideki breaks the stereotype.

* * *

DISTRICT SEVEN FEMALE

 **NAME:** IVY DE LIMA

 **SKILLS DEMONSTRATED:** Axe, rope climbing, edible plants

 **ASSESSMENT:** Ivy threw some axes around just like Hideki, and she was mediocre to say the least. She'd put up a hell of a fight, though. Then she climbed the rope course and climbed our highest rope. Finally, she sorted some berries.

 **STRENGTHS:** Climbing, basic axe knowledge

 **WEAKNESSES:** Feisty and might get in trouble with that mouth of hers. She's a little reckless as well.

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** She was raped at age fourteen, which was a traumatic experience for her. We believe she's disguising her pain with anger.

 **ODDS:** 24:1

 **SCORE:** 6

 **NOTES:** I wouldn't want to debate against you.

* * *

DISTRICT EIGHT MALE

 **NAME:** HUDSON BERNHAGEN

 **SKILLS DEMONSTRATED:** Bow and arrow

 **ASSESSMENT:** Hudson walked in the room cockily and shot a few arrows. They all missed the target, and his whole private session is sort of sad after that. He managed to hit the target once, but the rest of the time he screamed that the bow was broken.

 **STRENGTHS:** Physically strong

 **WEAKNESSES:** Pretty much everything besides being muscular. Most of the tributes hate him.

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** He's a bully, but I doubt he'll be able to kill. His mind is pretty clean.

 **ODDS:** 35:1

 **SCORE:** 4

 **NOTES:** You and Mugger were made for each other.

* * *

DISTRICT EIGHT FEMALE

 **NAME:** CALICO DAMASK

 **SKILLS DEMONSTRATED:** Shelter-making, edible plants, throwing knives

 **ASSESSMENT:** Calico sweetly wished us good afternoon and began building a shelter against the wall. An assistant poured water over it, and Calico stayed dry. Then she identified some plants flawlessly. Finally, she threw a few knives, all of which hit the target.

 **STRENGTHS:** Very intelligent, good survival skills, basic knife knowledge

 **WEAKNESSES:** Innocent. She shouldn't be here. Other than that, just physical weakness.

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** Cleaner than President Tiberius' tuxedo.

 **ODDS:** 32:1

 **SCORE:** 5

 **NOTES:** What a polite little girl.

* * *

DISTRICT NINE MALE

 **NAME:** MATT SICKLE

 **SKILLS DEMONSTRATED:** Explosives, survival skills

 **ASSESSMENT:** Matt explained that he used explosives during turf wars against his opposing gang. He then blew up multiple dummies with strategically placed explosives. After that he showed us some basic survival knowledge, such as how to purify water and start a fire.

 **STRENGTHS:** Explosives, survival skills, seems calm and collected

 **WEAKNESSES:** Avery is targeting him

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** Not exactly clean, since he's the leader of a gang, but relatively unscratched.

 **ODDS:** 19:1

 **SCORE:** 7

 **NOTES:** I think Avery will last longer.

* * *

DISTRICT NINE FEMALE

 **NAME:** TESSA AVERY

 **SKILLS DEMONSTRATED:** Knives, survival skills, and… metal pole fighting?

 **ASSESSMENT:** Avery threw a few knives and slashed some dummies just to prove she could. Then she identifies plants and built a fire. Finally, she painted "Matt" on a dummy's chest and beat it to death with a metal pole. It was quite terrifying.

 **STRENGTHS:** Fighting, being scary

 **WEAKNESSES:** Too reckless to stand a chance

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** Hardened from years of neglect and countless gang fights.

 **ODDS:** 15:1

 **SCORE:** 6

 **NOTES:** I wouldn't want to meet you in a dark alley.

* * *

DISTRICT TEN MALE

 **NAME:** CHANDER FORREST

 **SKILLS DEMONSTRATED:** Plant identification

 **ASSESSMENT:** Chander identified plants for us, but failed miserably. He actually almost ate a poisonous berry. Luckily a bodyguard stopped him. Then he gave up and aimlessly painted on his arm before he was dismissed.

 **STRENGTHS:** Not much. He's a sponsor magnet.

 **WEAKNESSES:** Weak and not good at much. He's also in a wheelchair, so yeah.

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** Clean

 **ODDS:** 80:1

 **SCORE:** 1

 **NOTES:** Someone cut off his leg and give him a prosthetic one. Then he'll stand a chance.

* * *

DISTRICT TEN FEMALE

 **NAME:** CATHERINE HILL

 **SKILLS DEMONSTRATED:** Bow and arrow, edible plants and insects

 **ASSESSMENT:** Catherine walked in the room and immediately stated that the bow and arrow looked cool. She shot five arrows and two of them landed in the dummy's stomach by sheer luck. Then she showed us her edible plant and insect skills, but she assured us that she'd never _eat_ an insect.

 **STRENGTHS:** BEING ADORABLE I mean, nothing. She's a sponsor magnet, though.

 **WEAKNESSES:** Everything.

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** Cleanest one here.

 **ODDS:** 60:1

 **SCORE:** 5

 **NOTES:** We felt sorry for her, so why not give her a higher score?

* * *

DISTRICT ELEVEN MALE

 **NAME:** DARREN WHITAKER

 **SKILLS DEMONSTRATED:** Warhammer

 **ASSESSMENT:** Darren walked in the room and began demolishing dummies and tables with his mighty warhammer. He looked like skinny Thor. Then he threw the warhammer into a wall, which left a big dent.

 **STRENGTHS:** He's strong and won't be the Careers' first target.

 **WEAKNESSES:** He's not very social, which could be how downfall. Once Matt's gone, he'll be a target.

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** His parents are dead, so he's a little shaken up. He's overworked and constantly stressed out over money.

 **ODDS:** 17:1

 **SCORE:** 10

 **NOTES:** I'll be rooting for you.

* * *

DISTRICT ELEVEN FEMALE

 **NAME:** PALATA BROWNS

 **SKILLS DEMONSTRATED:** Edible plants, awl

 **ASSESSMENT:** Palata shows that she's good at identifying plants, which is the norm for Eleven girls. Then she whips out an awl and starts poking dummies. I don't know how deadly she'll be in the arena, but she seems to be decent.

 **STRENGTHS:** Plants

 **WEAKNESSES:** Physically weak. She's currently transforming from bratty to nice, so she's a little unstable.

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** Imagine a teenage Capitol girl getting shoved into a deathmatch, and that's exactly what Palata is. She realizes she's a jerk, and that's starting to take a toll on her. We believe her father's neglect will affect her in the arena.

 **ODDS:** 36:1

 **SCORE:** 5

 **NOTES:** I got my teeth cleaned by her father. She was a toddler then, always trying to please her father with those pearly whites. I wish I could have warned them what would happen.

* * *

DISTRICT TWELVE MALE

 **NAME:** GORDON MATTHEWS

 **SKILLS DEMONSTRATED:** Spear

 **ASSESSMENT:** Gordon tried to spar with an assistant, but ended up failing miserably. He then began crying for his parents. He just made the realization that he's going to die.

 **STRENGTHS:** Nothing much. He'll fly under the radar.

 **WEAKNESSES:** He's entitled and weak.

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** Clean

 **ODDS:** 45:1

 **SCORE:** 4

 **NOTES:** Poor chap.

* * *

DISTRICT TWELVE FEMALE

 **NAME:** SUNNY COLE

 **SKILLS DEMONSTRATED:** Plant identification, javelin

 **ASSESSMENT:** Sunny immediately goes to the plant identification station, which she excels at. She passes all the quizzes the instructor gives her. Then she throws a few javelins, which hit the outer rings of the target. She's mediocre.

 **STRENGTHS:** Plants

 **WEAKNESSES:** Weapons. She's also stick thin and extremely weak.

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** She has an eating disorder and eats very little each day. When she eats "too much" she'll force the food to come up. Overall she has a very bad image of herself.

 **ODDS:** 38:1

 **SCORE:** 5

 **NOTES:** At least she's good at not eating. That could be helpful.

* * *

 **Here's your private session report. Credit goes to LCS and Silver for the form, since they use it in their stories. This was very time consuming.**

 **I plan on writing two mentor chapters, interviews, into the tubes, and countdown. There might be another chapter with some development, but I'm not sure. At the rate we're going, bloodbath will be on Friday. Keep your fingers crossed.**


	24. Mentors (Part One)

**Astoria Mohr-Gallerman, Victor of the 112th Hunger Games**

My father wanted to make sure Nolan was all prepped for his interview, so I'm stuck with Jules. I like my sister and all, but she's been acting really prickly and rude ever since she volunteered. She accused us of favoring Nolan, which is slightly true, but she still shouldn't treat her family this way. After all, we're her only shot of coming home.

"What's your angle?" I ask.

"Determined," she says with a grim face, "I bet I'll do better than you."

I scoff at her idiocy. My interview was one of the best in Games' history. I was charming, sweet, beautiful, and a Capitol doll. I still am, actually. I didn't change much over the course of the Games.

"We'll see about that."

* * *

 **Onyx Beryl, Victor of the 103rd Hunger Games**

I'm still mad about Two's luck this year, but I've decided to embrace the situation. Cendko still has a decent chance, even if Kiara is hopeless. His 10 in training certainly proves that he's capable enough to win. Next year we need new Academy instructors. Whatever idiot that chose a one-armed man as the volunteer is about to lose their job.

"Why do you still underestimate me?" snarls Cendko, "Haven't I proved myself."

I shake my head slowly. "You can't alter the facts. Swinging a sword into a dummy and swinging a sword into a human are two different things. You're at a disadvantage."

* * *

 **Lextra Diode, Victor of the 41st Hunger Games**

I get the feeling Moira doesn't like me very much. Mentoring her isn't very fun at all. Usually I enjoy getting to know the tributes, and they usually like me. I give them candy and tell good jokes. But Moira doesn't respond to any of that. She just stares ahead, emotionless as always. She's the first tribute I won't feel bad about sending into the Games. Same goes for Mugger.

"You don't have to be bloodthirsty, you know," I say, "You're much more likely to win if you lay low."

Moira rolls her eyes and continues staring straight ahead. Oh well, I tried.

* * *

 **Darren Oceanus, Victor of the 107th Hunger Games**

The Games used to be fun and entertaining, but now they're dull and gross. I'm sick of sending tribute after tribute to their death. Frank is the perfect replacement. He's strong, young, and funny. The Capitol can forget about me and I'll live a peaceful life in District Four. My Career days are over.

"What's killing like?" Frank asks apprehensively.

"Horrible," I say, "Avoid it at all costs."

"I don't think I could do it," he says, "You know, take someone's life. I would chicken out."

"I thought I would too."

* * *

 **Helga Washton, Victor of the 77th Hunger Games**

"I can't!" Sabrina cries, "I get stage fright!"

It's like looking into a mirror. I remember having the same argument with my mentor back when I was a tribute. Talking on live television seemed worse than death. Now I'm in his position, and I desperately try to remember his words.

"Just be _you,"_ I say, "Don't worry about having an angle. Don't worry about the other tributes. Just go in there and wing it."

"Are you sure?" she sniffles.

"Yes. It worked for me."

* * *

 **Remus Liphile, Victor of the 115th Hunger Games**

The nightmares still haunt me every night. I see her face every time I close my eyes. My sweet Maria. I see the moon in the sky and I hear the howl of the werewolves. It's like I'm in the arena again. Their glowing eyes taunt me from the cave entrance. Maria unknowingly steps in, and before she can react to my screams of warning they're on her. She's ripped to shreds before my eyes. I'll never get her back, and it's all my fault.

"Join the crazy side," says Vaska, " _Blood_ is the only way to deal with your pain."

I won't give in to his taunting. Maria would want me to be strong. I didn't go through hell and back, only to commit suicide. I've seen enough blood already.

* * *

 **Jessica Wilds, Victor of the 105th Hunger Games**

Ivy is a strong girl. She'll pull through just like I did. She _has_ to. We're practically the same. If I won, then I know she can as well. That's why I'm not worried like other mentors. Tomer says I'm in denial, but that's cause he's jealous. Nobody would want to be stuck with Hideki.

"Have you ever mentored a victor?" asks Ivy.

"Candi," I say, "She's a little nutty. Tomer won the 104th, I won the 105th, and she won the 106th. For a while Seven was almost as good as the Careers."

"Looks like we're due for another victory," Ivy says confidently.

 _It's long overdue._

* * *

 **Jay Hawk, Victor of the 110th Hunger Games**

Hudson got a freaking 4. I thought he might be different from the others, but apparently he's just as weak as any Eight tribute. How did Calico do better than him? Hudson's been moping around ever since the training scores aired last night.

"Keep your head in the game," I say.

" _Victors_ don't get _4's!_ " Hudson snarls.

"Then be the first."

* * *

 **Melinda Greeville, Victor of the 87th Hunger Games**

I'm glad Avery finally realized what's important. Glaring at Matt was only gonna get her killed. I don't care what she does to him in the Games, but during the interviews she needs to act professional. My brother and I haven't mentored a Victor yet, and it's been twenty-eight years. Avery can't mess this up.

"Remember, be cool and reserved. Only talk when Ricky prompts you. And do _not_ mention Matt. Understood?"

"Understood," she says coolly, glancing murderously at Matt's room.

"Save that anger for the Games," I say.

* * *

 **Marshall Yablonski, Victor of the 101st Hunger Games**

I gave up a long time ago. Sending children to their deaths gets old after fifteen years. I've never mentored a Victor, and I don't expect to. Especially this year. Chander is my tribute, and he's _crippled._

"What should I say?" he asks nervously.

"During your interview? Just cry or something. Maybe you'll get a sponsor."

"But won't that make me look weak?"

"Trust me, you can't come off as any weaker than you already are."

* * *

 **Harold Springer, Victor of the 102nd Hunger Games**

Palata's mentality has improved greatly since she first stepped on the train. She's being more open and kind. She's saying please and thank you. And she finally seems determined enough to win. I think District Eleven actually has a shot this year.

"Just talk about your father's business," I say, "The crowd will love it."

"Harold?" she murmurs.

"What?"

"I don't want to be tied back to my father. I'm sick of being a billboard."

 _Maybe she's changed more than I thought._

* * *

 **Mack Davis, Victor of the 76th Hunger Games**

Coal finally got to Sunny, so she's been eating dinner with the rest of the crew. It feels like a weight has been lifted off my chest, allowing me to help Gordon. He certainly needs the help.

"I don't want to die!" he sobs, "Will my parents save me? Will they send sponsor gifts?"

I shrug. "They might, but you can't depend on them. Be your own man. Win or die with honor. Quit this crying shit."

* * *

 **Here's the first half. I might do interviews, then mentors part two. I find them boring, even if they're necessary. Interviews are more fun.**

 **Also, I used the training scores that you submitted in the forms. That's why some of them might be unrealistic. It's not your fault, we just tend to overestimate our own tribute's abilities. Every Career except Lusi (EDIT: And Kiara lol) got a 10 or 11. Next SYOT try to make them a little lower. :D**

 **We're nearing the Games! I plan on killing SIX tributes in the bloodbath, so start guessing. I'm pretty lenient on sponsoring, so just keep it reasonable and I'll let you send it. You can sponsor any tribute, not necessarily just your own.**

 **(P.S. Right now it's looking like we'll have more male deaths than female deaths in the bloodbath. That's mainly because the females this year are a little stronger. I'll try to balance out the deaths by the end.**


	25. Interviews

**Ricky Lightman, Games Interviewer**

 _Okay, Ricky, you've done this a million times. Just focus. You da man. You got this. Show those tributes who's boss._ You're _the boss._

I step out on stage, glimmering in my golden suit. The shoes alone cost more than a million dollars, since they're encrusted with flashy golden diamonds. As usual, the audience loves me. They scream my name and throw roses at the stage, and I make sure to wink at a few ladies as I walk to my seat. I'm single and ready to mingle.

"How do you plan to win the Games?" I ask Nolan. He's wearing an expensive suit that rivals my own. After I get over being jealous, it's easier to focus on the interview.

"Complete domination," he says coldly, "I'll kill off the other tributes one by one. Then I'll pick off my alliance one by one. It can't be that hard."

 _Good job, buddy. You just told them your plan._

Jules is wearing a short green dress, with black heels that strap all the way up her legs. And boy, what gorgeous legs. Her striking red hair is tied up with a black pin. She's sort of attractive, and I find it hard to focus on talking.

"How do you look so lovely- I mean menacing," I stammer.

"It's all about the eyes," she says, "If you have tough eyes, nobody will mess with you."

"Do you think you're at a disadvantage?" I ask Cendko, who's dressed in a simple, old-fashioned suit. One of the sleeves is cut off so it doesn't dangle.

"Yes and no," he says, "Yes for obvious reasons. But other people will underestimate me, which is definitely an advantage."

Kiara's blue dress immediately catches my eye. Her stylist did a good job. She looks pretty shy and tries to shrink back in her chair. Then she remembers that she's supposed to look emotionless. Maybe I can help her out.

"Kiara, those are some strong arms!" I exclaim.

She smiles and flexes nervously for the crowd. Even though she's skinny and not muscular at _all,_ the audience begins to ooh and aah. They'll do anything I tell them to do. Capitol people are sort of dumb.

"LAAADDIIEESS STINK!" Mugger screams. He's wearing underwear and a tight jacket, so I assume the stylists couldn't find anything that fit.

"I beg to differ!" I say, winking at the crowd. Mugger walks off stage, trips, and a prop falls on his head. An Avox tries to drag him away and fails. Two more Avoxes struggle for a while. FInally, six Avoxes manage to get him off the stage.

Moira doesn't say anything. She just stares at the crowd with a smirk. Her black dress fits her personality.

"You gonna say anything?" I ask. No reply.

Frank is the King of Atlantis. I wish I had abs like that. "Do you have a special someone back at home?" I ask him.

"My lovely Sienna is waiting for me," he says, flashing a charming smile at the crowd.

I don't even recognize the girl that walks on stage. Lusi is completely enveloped in a dress made of grey and blue swirls, and it somehow moves in a rolling motion like waves. She looks like a glob of the ocean grew legs and a head. I'm so speechless that I have to glance at one of the prompts that I hastily prepared on a notecard for situations like this.

"Do you prefer ketchup or mustard?" I ask, cursing myself as soon as the words come out. Stupid nephews! Always messing with my stuff.

Lusi owns the question. "Mustard because it matches your outfit. I'm a big fan!"

Why do we have so many silent tributes this year? Dorian sits on stage in his suit, glaring at the crowd. It's unnerving, so I glance at my notecards again. Might as well read one of them, since he won't reply anyways.

"Does Ricky have tight buns- WHAT? Forget that. Um, do you prefer blondes or brunettes?"

He doesn't answer, as expected. I'm sort of glad he didn't.

Finally, someone I can work with. Sabrina's dress is a bright orange, sort of like electricity. She smiles sweetly at the crowd. "What would you say to your family if you could see them right now?"

"I'd tell them not to worry," she says, "I'll do my best."

Vaska is wearing a bronze suit, and it seems his lips and eyes have been lined with bronze makeup. His hair is slicked back with gel.

"So, I heard you murder chickens?"

" _Torture,_ Ricky. They're two different things."

"Venus, that's a _beautiful_ silver dress!"

She shyly plucks at the fabric, and eventually turns away from the crowd and begins shaking. Her wobbly legs can hardly support her, so I stand up and help her backstage. Something smells fishy. Her nerves almost seem fake. The crowd sympathizes with her, though.

Hideki has a baby blue suit with a red shirt underneath. Not a good mix of colors. He's a very likable person, though, and hardly needs any help from me.

"Try living in the same building with Ivy for five days!" he exclaims.

"HA HA HA!" I exclaim with an overexaggerated laugh. The crowd joins in, and Hideki blushes.

Ivy's wearing a dark crimson dress and strappy black heels. She walks on stage with waving hips and pursed lips, and the dress clearly is designed to create the illusion of curves. She's acting sort of slutty. Jessica must have rubbed off on her.

" _Nobody_ 's gonna beat me," she assures us, "Just you wait and see."

"I believe it," I say. My eyes keep darting to her chest, and she shoots me a glare. Hey, I'm only twenty-eight. She's what, sixteen? It could still work out.

"The Gamemakers rigged the scores," Hudson says, holding out his hands. "Trust me, I'm way better than a 4. They're just idiots."

"I'm sure you are," I say, rolling my eyes. Why are all the guys wearing stupid black suits? So creative, stylists. Geesh.

Calico's wearing a yellow sundress that makes her look small and innocent. Her large blue eyes blink at me, and I suddenly feel guilty. She shouldn't be here.

"I heard you're a polite girl," I say.

"I can get dirty," she says, winking, "Sometimes I talk about smooches with my friends."

Matt is wearing...wait for it. A black suit. "Matt, that's a sharp black suit you got there. Props to your stylist for the original idea."

The crowd laughs, and Matt grins. "Hey, at least I'm not naked."

At first, Avery's interview goes smoothly. She's wearing a beautiful blue ball gown that makes her look like a princess. But Avery isn't a princess. She tries to keep it clipped and professional ,but soon she's trying to bite my head off.

"He's a dirty liar!" she hollers, pointing at Matt.

"Oh yes, I'm sure he's terrible," I say. Sometimes the best defence mechanism is to agree with them.

I'm delighted to see Chander is wearing something besides a black suit. It's a white suit with black dots. Does that count at a black suit? He looks like a cute little cow, and even has a cowbell around his neck.

"You must be strong from wheeling yourself around all the time," I say.

"I'll need to wheel super fast during the bloodbath, but I think I can do it," he says, "Catherine will protect me."

 _I'm sure she will. She's like the most amazing protector in the history of protectors. I bet she could take down a dragon._

"I LOVE my outfit!" she squeals, spinning around to display her frilly skirt.

"I LOVE it too!" I exclaim.

"Lookin' sharp in that black suit," I say to Darren, "You gonna win this thing?"

"I have to," he says emotionlessly, "My family needs me. I'm coming home, Tarren."

I'm super happy to see Palata. Her father is the most famous orthodontist in all of Panem. She's the billboard child. It's like I've known her my whole life. Her glittery gold dress matches my suit.

"Do you know how to clean teeth?" I ask.

"No, but I can throw a knife," she replies.

Gordon is the mayor's son, so I expected big things out of him. But on stage he's actually a really boring person. He sort of dejectedly answers all of my questions without any emotion. To make things worse, he's wearing a black suit.

"Is your dad going to sponsor you?"

"I don't even know anymore," he sighs.

Finally, the one I'm looking forward to the least. Sunny. I feel bad for the poor girl, but I don't know what to say to comfort her. Should I comment on her skinniness? Or should I just avoid her appearance? She steps out on stage in a beautiful silver dress. Her hair has been curled and silver high heels jut out from her feet. She must be five inches taller with those shoes. She's the most stunning tribute all night.

"Sunny…. I'm speechless."

"Really?" she asks, trembling.

"Really," I say. And I mean it.

* * *

 **Again, credit to LCS and Silver for this interview format. I think it's better to get a small glimpse of each interview. It all flows smoothly this way. Plus I don't have to write 24 interviews.**

 **1\. Rank the top three interviews and give an explanation why.**

 **2\. Rank the bottom three interviews and give an explanation why.**

 **3\. Name the five biggest threats and give an explanation why.**

 **4\. Which six tributes will die in the bloodbath and why.**

 **You don't have to answer all of these, I'm just giving you some options. Or answer all of them. Long reviews are fun.**

 **(Fun fact: Ricky's shoes really cost that much. Nick Cannon wears diamond shoes that are one million dollars** _ **per shoe.**_ **)**


	26. Mentors (Part Two)

**Beck Mohr, Victor of the 90th Hunger Games**

It's the moment we've all been waiting for. When Nolan Bronze stepped through the Academy doors for the first time, I knew he was something special. I took him under my wing, prepared his strategy for years, and finally made him the chosen volunteer. It's like he's my own son.

"Focus," I say, "Don't get overconfident. Just breathe and stay loose."

His interview went well. Now we're going through some stretch routines before bed. Tomorrow at eleven he'll rise into the arena. I remember the feeling very well. I know Nolan will enjoy it.

* * *

 **Alexandria Paz, Victor of the 83rd Hunger Games**

I'm Two's best mentor. That's why I've stuck around for thirty-three years. They can't find anyone good enough to replace me. I was supposed to lead Irene to victory and up my status even more, but apparently that's not happening this year.

"Just get some rest," I say, "Try not to die in the bloodbath. Give Cendko some space, since he actually stands a chance."

"Thank you for all the help," Kiara says. I can tell she's genuine. I have nothing against her; she seems like a pretty cool girl. She just shouldn't be here.

"Good luck," I say before heading to bed.

* * *

 **Wyatt Neti, Victor of the 82nd Hunger Games**

Mugger doesn't want to play chess with me, so I pretty much let him do whatever he wants. He chooses to whip out a guitar and sing in his room all night. Every few hours he'll scream for an Avox to bring him more chips, but that's about it. At least he's living live to the fullest before his inevitable death.

It's my job to help tributes succeed, but I can't say I won't be happy when Mugger goes. Maybe next year will turn out better.

* * *

 **Tilapia Mahi, Victor of the 113th Hunger Games**

Lusi has done everything she can. Now she just needs a pep talk and some sleep. I walk in her room after the interviews expecting the confident girl I'm used to seeing. But instead she looks like she's about to puke.

"Were you nervous?" she asks.

"Nervous as hell," I reply, "Chocolate helps. It'll get your mind off of it."

We eat chocolate together for a while, then turn in for the night. I hope she makes it out. Maybe Lusi will replace me.

* * *

 **Jeremy Falkner, Victor of the 91st Hunger Games**

"NO!" I scream, punching a wall, "You can't do this. This is _bullshit._ "

"I'm not letting them kill people!" Dorian roars.

"You can't make a difference!" I exclaim, "You're just prolonging the inevitable for people like Catherine! Plus, they'll kill _you!"_

"I can live with that," he says.

"You won't live at _all,"_ is all I say.

* * *

 **Alexandra "Sasha" Smith, Victor of the 111th Hunger Games**

Venus is a smart girl, so I have faith in her. If she can keep her head in the game, she stands a good chance. Vaska is a wildcard, but I believe Venus can use him to her advantage. When the time is right, a small drop of berry juice will do the trick.

"What's your bloodbath plan?" I ask.

"Stick with Vaska," she says, "I'll keep up the innocent angle. Vaska wants to kidnap someone in case his blood cravings get worse, so we'll probably grab one of the Tens."

I shudder. "Alright. Just stop things if they get out of hand."

* * *

 **Tomer Dabney, Victor of the 104th Hunger Games**

"Just hide and kill," I tell Hideki, "Jump from alliance to alliance and take them out one by one. Poisoning food is your best bet, since you can blame it on the cook."

"Okay," he says.

"And don't be nervous," I say, taking a deep swig of brandy, "You've got this in the bag."

"Easy for you to say," he says, muttering quietly.

* * *

 **Styla Wickerson, Victor of the 80th Hunger Games**

Children are such a gift. Watching Calico on stage made me feel warm inside. She's like my own daughter. My cats are my children, but it's nice to have a human child, even if it's only for a short while. Calico sweetly wishes me goodnight and closes her bedroom door.

I wander the halls of the Training Center, contemplating the Games. Calico stands a chance if she sticks with her allies. I think she can come home to me.

 _I can't lose another child._

* * *

 **Jason Greeville, Victor of the 88th Hunger Games**

My sister is working with Avery, so I decide to watch some old Games' tapes with Matt. We analyze good and bad strategies, mainly the district partner rivalries. We see how they handled things in the bloodbath, and slowly begin to form a good strategy for Matt. We assume he's alone, since there's always a chance Darren will betray him.

"I think you're all set," I say.

"Thanks for all the help," says Matt.

"No problem," I say, "It's my job."

* * *

 **Samuel Pollock, Victor of the 79th Hunger Games**

I vaguely remember this "Cathy" girl, but it feels like the Reaping was a thousand years ago. How much time has really passed? Where am I? I thought Cathy would be dead by now. Maybe I'm dead, and she's in the afterlife with me.

She told me to call her Cathy, since her real name was too hard for my slurring mouth to pronounce. What a sweet child.

"Let's play dress up!" she says, "Except I'll do the dressing up. I don't want to dress you myself. Okay Sammy? Hey, I could do your makeup!"

For the rest of the evening, Cathy touches my face a whole lot. I wonder what she's doing. All I remember is the sweet tang of wine dripping down my throat.

* * *

 **John Burke, Victor of the 108th Hunger Games**

Darren is a pretty cool dude. I like how he's doing this for his family, and I sincerely hope he wins. He's so humble and kind, and I know he'd be a good father. Technically he already cares for his siblings.

"Good luck," I say.

"Thanks," he says, "Help Tarren if I die. She needs the money."

"I promise I'll do everything I can," I tell him.

* * *

 **Coal Wiseman, Victor of the 78th Hunger Games**

"Thanks for everything," Sunny says, "I still don't know how truthful you're being, but I do feel a little better."

"That's good!" I say, smiling, "Now win this thing!"

She smiles, shaking her head slowly. "We both know that won't happen. Just tell my family I love them."

We cry together. I wish I could go into the Games in her place.

* * *

 **Sorry if this sucks. I'm not editing it because I really want to get a few more short chapters done today. This chapter isn't that important, anyways, and I don't think you care if there's spelling mistakes in such a short chapter. Please point out mistakes so I can fix them. I'm sure there's a bunch of "it and is" and "me and my" switch ups, since I tend to do that a lot when I type fast.**

 **I would run it through Grammarly, but then I'd have to do all twelve POV's separate. It deletes the lines in between POVs when I do it all at once, and I'm too lazy to rebold and add lines again.**

 **I'll be doing Into the Tubes and Countdown for sure, and MAYBE the bloodbath if you're extremely lucky. I get really excited, as you can tell. That's why I'm updating at the speed of light. I'm not trying to rush, I just literally get jittery and can't focus on anything else when the bloodbath is this close. So you might get three more chapters today. Who knows.**


	27. Into the Tubes

**Juliet "Jules" Mohr (17), District One**

Astoria absentmindedly picks her nails while I chug a few glasses of water. She couldn't care less what happens to me. She's just disappointed she can't be with Nolan. That angers me, but I need to keep a level head. In a few minutes, I'll be fighting for my life. Careers have been taken out by district runts before.

"Remember when we used to play Hunger Games together?" Astoria says out of the blue.

"With the plastic swords and bandanas? Yeah," I say, a little confused.

Surprisingly, Astoria has tears in her eyes. She tries to wipe them away, but ends up crying louder. "I do care about you," she says to me, "Even though it might not look like it. I have something important to tell you."

"What?" I ask, still puzzled. Why is she telling me this now?

"Father only chose you this year because he wants _August_ to win at age seventeen. He never intended for you to win this year. He only put you in the Games so you wouldn't get angry. I'm so sorry for not telling you sooner!" Astoria breaks down in sobs.

 _What the HELL just happened?_

* * *

 **Cendko Pillars (18), District Two**

Onyx and I never got along, but he's still a great mentor. He gives me some nutritional foods that will give me the vitamins I need in the arena. I eat lots of bananas. I'll lose a lot of potassium during the bloodbath.

"Good luck, and drop Kiara as soon as possible," says Onyx.

I don't know if I can do that, but I agree anyways. I've bonded with Kiara. Killing her would be like killing my sister. Am I going soft?

* * *

 **Moira Locke (17), District Three**

My bloodbath strategy depends on who I'm near. If there's any weaklings nearby, I'll kill them. If not, I'll grab a knife and run. Self-preservation is key. I'll leave at the first sign of danger, even if I'm in the middle of torturing someone. There will always be a chance for more experiments later on. Getting myself killed in the bloodbath won't help at all.

I'm excited to see the mutts. I've done my research in the past few days, and I'm shocked I never discovered their appeal sooner in life. I hope there's wolves in the arena. They're the most brutal killers.

"Good luck," says Lextra as I nibble on a cracker. I ignore her, just like I ignore everyone else.

* * *

 **Frank Tides (18), District Four**

We're given the tribute outfit a few minutes before the tubes are scheduled to close. It's a thin white muscle shirt with tan cargo pants and black combat boots. My belt has loops to hold knives, water bottles, and other small tools. A floppy cotton hat is attached to my head with a string. Looks like we're gonna be in the sun.

"Water will be essential," says Darren **(NOTE: Darren Oceanus, not Whitaker. This is the Four mentor)** , "Gather as much as possible in the Cornucopia. Then find a reliable water source."

"Get me iodine tablets if they're not in the Cornucopia," I say, "There's no telling what the water quality will be like. I might have to drink lake water."

"Remember to boil it first," says Darren, "Boiling kills most bacteria. Then use the tablets."

* * *

 **Sabrina Volta (16), District Five**

" _Attention all tributes. Please step in your tubes. You have sixty seconds."_

My heart is about to fly out of my chest, but I force myself to remain calm. I have reliable allies, which is a lot less than other tributes can say. We'll protect each other, and all four of us will survive the bloodbath. I'm sure of it. I just need to stick to the plan.

"A tank-top," says Helga, looking at my outfit, "Looks like it's gonna be hot. Usually they give you jackets, too. Guess you won't need one."

"The cargo pants could mean rocky terrain," I say.

"Good observation. Now go win."

* * *

 **Vaska Napier (17), District Six**

In a few minutes I'll be able to kill. Just two measly minutes. That's not very long at all. I pick at my outfit for a few seconds, admiring how good my arms look without sleeves. Axle will have his eyes _glued_ to the screen.

Remus is unconscious from too much alcohol, so I step into my tube silently. There's a small screen on the wall with a countdown. Thirty seconds before the tubes close.

 _You got this, Vaska. Time to play with some blood._

* * *

 **Ivy de Lima (16), District Seven**

"Are you hydrated?" asks Jessica, "I went into the bloodbath thirsty, which was a bad mistake."

"No," I say.

She smiles. "Hang in there, missy. You've got this."

It was easier to be confident a few days ago. Now that it's here, the Games seem terrifying. My only solace is that I'm not the weakest tribute. I'm not a target, either. I can slip in and out without being noticed, and hopefully I'll survive from there.

"Tell my mother I love her," I say before stepping inside the glass tube.

* * *

 **Hudson Bernhagen (15), District Eight**

 _Fifteen, fourteen, thirteen….._

The screen counts down. Soon the tubes will close, and Jay won't be able to help me anymore. I'll miss him. Luckily, I know I'll see him in a few days. Winning the Games can't be too hard if Styla can do it. She's worse than my grandmother.

"Don't get cocky," says Jay, "That'll be your downfall."

"Chillax," I say, "Mugger will protect me. Then I'll kill him in the final two. Easy."

Jay holds his head in his hands. What's he moping about?

* * *

 **Tessa Avery (18), District Nine**

"I'll rip his fucking face off. I'll shred his guts to pieces. I'll feed his heart to Moira," I say, glaring at the wall hard enough to burn it with my eyes alone. Melinda even looks afraid.

"Don't do anything too brutal," she says, "The Gamemakers don't like torture that much. They might take you out."

"I don't care what those fools think of me," I say, gnashing my teeth together.

 _I've waited for this moment for so long._

* * *

 **Chander Forrest (12), District Ten**

"I'm so sorry," says Marshall, who looks genuinely upset, "It won't fit. There's nothing we can do."

"Give me a prosthetic leg!" I wail, "Just don't make me go in without my wheelchair!"

Marshall throws his hands in the air. "What do you want me to do? The Capitol won't alter your body unless you _win."_

I sob and sob. Then I sob some more. Soon I'm dizzy from lack of water. I'm going to die all because of my stupid leg. Catherine and I had a strategy all worked out. She was going to push me away. Everything was supposed to be fine. _Now_ what?

"Listen kid. Die with honor," says Marshall, "I don't know what you're going through, but all you can do is face it head on. Your family won't feel as bad if you accept it."

Accept my death? That might actually work. Now that I think about it, I always knew I was going to die. Nothing ever changed that fact. Even if I had two of the fastest legs in the world, I was still going to lose. Catherine too. Dying in the bloodbath doesn't change anything. Only one placing matters, and that's first.

I grab a piece of paper from the table and begin to write a letter. It's not to Marshall. It's not to my family. It's to Catherine. She'll need strength. When I'm done, I fold it and hand it to my mentor. He swiftly reads over it.

"You're a good kid. Now go kick some ass."

Marshall helps me to my feet and sets me inside the tube. My body flops uncomfortably against the glass. I need to balance for two full minutes on a rising platform of metal. With one leg. Can't be too hard, right?

* * *

 **Palata Browns (15), District Eleven**

Who would have known. Palata Browns, poster girl for _Browns' Smiles_ is about to enter the Hunger Games. I should be nervous, but I think my nerves have finally numbed down to a dull ache. My father must be nervous, right? He wants me to come home. I know he does.

"Remember why you're here," says Harold, "You're fighting for _you._ Not your father. Come home to me. I can't lose another tribute."

"Okay," I breathe. The glass begins to close.

* * *

 **Gordon Matthew (14), District Twelve**

Soon I can't see Mack. Rising in the tube is surprisingly peaceful. I look over my body, aware that I'm about to leave this world for good. I have minutes to live. Maybe even seconds. My father can't save me now. The Hunger Games have taken the richest boy in Twelve. Status doesn't matter in a deathmatch.

Light blinds me as the arena appears around my podium. The Cornucopia gleams, gold and foreboding. Palata is to my left and Sunny is to my right. We're in order of district.

The arena is beautiful and scary at the same time. Everything is white. My eyes and nose already sting with the unfamiliar smell. And it's deathly hot. Waves of heat tickle my arms and face. My skin feels like it's on fire. Just as I begin to think about my strategy, an explosion of metal and flesh echoes around the Cornucopia. Blood stains my left cheek. I'm so shocked I almost fall off my own podium.

And then there were twenty-three.

* * *

 **You have no idea how excited I am. I looked over this chapter and I'm pretty sure there's no mistakes. Like I said last chapter, I'm too lazy to run it through Grammarly because I'd have to reformat everything.**

 **Jules and Chander got longer POV's because something important actually happened.**

 **1\. What do you think of Astoria's confession?**

 **2\. What is the arena? What will be some of the tributes' climate-related struggles?**

 **3\. Who jumped off their podium? (It's not Gordon, just so you know. Hint hint which side did the blood on Gordon's cheek come from?)**

 **I hope you're as excited as I am! I might do countdown and bloodbath later today. I'm not sure yet.**


	28. Countdown

**Chander Forrest (12), District Ten**

We rise up and I lose the protection of the glass tube. My hands meet nothing but air, and I begin to wobble uncontrollably. My bad leg is throbbing and my good leg is cramping. This is it. We're at fifty seconds, but I'll never last that long. I'm about to die, and it's time to take Marshall's advice and accept the fact that I'm not going to win.

My eyes seek out Catherine. She's directly to my right.

"Cathy," I say.

"Chander!" she screams.

"Brace yourself," is all I can utter before falling. The ground meets my face, and my body is obliterated with a fiery explosion of metal. All I feel is pain. I wish death wasn't so painful.

* * *

 **Nolan Bronze (18), District One**

The Ten boy just blew up. I'm close enough to receive a few splatters of blood, which is mildly annoying since it stained my white shirt. I want my clothing to be stained with the blood of my enemies, not the stupid crippled boy.

Luckily, the Careers are all pretty close. Moira and Mugger are trapped between us.

"Get me a sword," I say to Jules, "I'm going for Mugger."

"'Kay," she says. For some reason, she looks distracted.

* * *

 **Kiara Wong (16), District Two**

The moment is finally here. I need to keep up my emotionless strategy. The other Careers don't seem to suspect anything, so it's my best bet at coming home. I need to prove Irene wrong and be Kimora's playmate again. I can't die in the Hunger Games.

 _49….48...47…_

Someone's already dead. I'm glad the poor boy wasn't ripped apart by Vaska or Nolan. Blowing up was probably quicker. Maybe I should jump off, too. I doubt I'll win. At least I'll know my death will be painless. I won't have to worry about being tortured or stabbed. With one step forward I could end my life and move on.

But if I die, I want it to be on my own terms. The Games are Irene's fault. Dying here would only prove her right. For that reason alone, I prepare myself to run forward.

* * *

 **Mugger Rootshorn (17), District Three**

The boy from One seems to be targeting me. I'm not worried. He'll see a shiny sword or explosive and run off to grab it instead. Or he'll go after Moira. He's too big of a coward to try and kill _me._

Hudson is on the other side of the Cornucopia, so we'll have to meet up after the bloodbath. Sunny is relatively close. I'll have to cross Nolan's path to get there, but I'm sure he won't attack me. Looks like I've found my first victim.

* * *

 **Lusitania "Lusi" Bream (18), District Four**

I feel bad for the Ten boy, but I'm glad I didn't have to kill him. Killing is my weak spot. I came into the Hunger Games for the fame and glory, but I don't think I want to kill Catherine or Calico. They're so innocent. Hopefully, I can leave them to Nolan and Jules. I'll go after Hudson or Vaska. They're bigger threats, and I won't feel as bad when I kill them.

My father is my biggest fan. Paired with the Hunger Games, he must think I'm a superstar. I can't even imagine the party he's throwing back in District Four. I can't let him down.

Plus, he needs his dive partner. You can't dive without a partner.

* * *

 **Dorian Fritz (18), District Five**

I'll save Nolan and Cendko for later. Jules is my first target. She's preparing to rush at the Cornucopia, so I'll attack her from behind while she's grabbing weapons. Then I'll go back for Kiara and the Fours. Maybe I'll be the first outlier to kill six Careers.

Sabrina shoots me a pleading look, but I ignore her. She knows I have to do this. It's my destiny to stop criminals.

I wouldn't have it any other way.

* * *

 **Venus Albryte (14), District Six**

 _45…..44….43…._

It's a salt flat. That ruins my strategy completely. My weapon making and edible plants knowledge meant I could run away without supplies, but I'll have to completely rethink my plan. In forty seconds. Luckily, I'm a quick thinker. Vaska always planned to run towards the bloodbath, so I guess I could use him for protection. With a maniac by my side, nobody will dare to harm me.

"I'll get water, you get weapons," I say to him. I can make my own weapons, anyways. If he gets himself killed, I can survive without him. I _can't_ survive without water.

"Not the Ten girl," he says, "She's not feisty enough. I want a chicken with some fight."

 _What the hell?_

"I want the Seven or Nine girl," he says simply, "You'll have to get weapons and water. I'm catching myself a chicken."

* * *

 **Hideki Ora (15), District Seven**

Being next to the Sixes is unnerving. Especially since Vaska is muttering his plans out loud. Ivy can't hear him, so I motion at her desperately until she notices. Once she realizes who I'm talking about, she nods. Whew.

Now that Ivy is aware of the situation, I need to consider my own strategy. Tagging with Ivy could be dangerous, since she's all alone. The girl alliance is my best bet. They'll take me in without hesitation.

 _35…..34…...33…_

* * *

 **Calico Damask (14), District Eight**

I hate this heat. Why couldn't the arena be a tropical paradise? Or a forest? Or even a cave system? Anything except a salt flat. The smell is already giving me a headache, and almost every tribute has pulled up their floppy hat to protect their face from the harsh rays of the sun.

Sabrina is five spots to my left. Palata is five spots to my right. Sunny is two spots to the right of Palata. We're pretty close to each other.

 _30…..29…..28….._

* * *

 **Matt Sickle (17), District Nine**

Why did the Gamemakers have to order us by district? Avery is glaring at me, and it's creepy. She's especially menacing since she's covered with the Ten boy's blood and guts. I wouldn't put it past her to jump off her podium and drag me off with her. Her body is positioned towards me. She'll be on me a mere second after the gong.

I glance at Darren. He nods. Good luck killing me, Avery.

 _22….21….20…._

* * *

 **Catherine Hill (12), District Ten**

 _NO! CHANDER!_

I sob and sob and sob. Then I stop crying because I can't cry without my crying buddy. My body is soaked with red, and I feel like puking every time I look at the mass of flesh surrounding Chander's podium. His skull is lying by the Cornucopia. I see a leg lying by Nolan. He literally exploded and flew everywhere.

"Mama! Father!" I wail, "Jess! Joseph! Help me please!"

But Father isn't here to tell me everything will be alright. Ma isn't here to wash me in the big metal tub. I can't help Jess tie her shoes. I can't play dolls with Hammond and Mattie. I can't help Joseph prank his friends. And I can't tell Chander goodbye.

I collapse and realize with a scream that I've fallen off my podium.

* * *

 **Darren Whitaker (18), District Eleven**

A little girl's scream echoes around the salt flat. A second explosion thuds in my ears and Catherine's blood drenches my body. I let out a cry of shock and disgust. She's younger than Candy. How is she dead? She had her whole life ahead of her.

There's nowhere to run. Mountains loom in one direction, offering protection. The rest is just flatness. With the occasional rock formation. The Careers will see us for miles.

Looks like there's only one way to go. And that's up.

 _14….13…...12…._

* * *

 **Sunny Cole (15), District Twelve**

The Tens are gone, leaving twenty-two tributes standing around the Cornucopia. My eyes dart from face to face, and I wonder who the Victor will be. It won't be me, that's for sure.

I just need to find my alliance and head for the mountains. Everyone will be there, but it's either that or the Careers. And I'd take the outliers in a heartbeat.

 _5…..4…..3…..2….1….._

" _Let the 116th Hunger Games begin!"_

* * *

 **24th place: Chander Forrest (fell off his podium): Chander's submitter originally gave me another bully, like Hudson and Mugger. But after seeing Mugger, they made a totally new character that we now know as Chander. Killing him was the hardest death I've ever written. You have no idea how bad I wanted Catherine to drag him away to safety. But realistically, he could never bring his wheelchair in the arena. So he had to die. He's one of my favorite tributes by far, and I'm devastated that he's gone. I've never seen a tribute in a wheelchair before, so thanks for the originality. Thank you Bookieworm04 for the amazing tribute. You still have Kiara!**

 **23rd place: Catherine Hill (fell off her podium): I originally planned for Calico's alliance to swoop in and protect her, but as I was writing the countdown I changed my mind. She's young and naive, so Chander's death would put her in shock. Therefore, it seemed most realistic for her to fall off her podium as well. I really liked Catherine. She and Chander were the crowd favorites this year, but we all know they couldn't win. I figured blowing up was better than being stabbed, so I gave them a quick death. She'll never read Chander's note. (I'll show you what it said in a later chapter.) Thank you CallmeLegend for submitting her, and at least you still have Nolan!**

 **Two of the six bloodbath deaths before the Games even begin! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'll be writing the bloodbath shortly.**

 **1\. Will Vaska get his "chicken"?**

 **2\. Will Avery kill Matt? Or will Darren save him in time?**

 **3\. Are you happy with the Tens' deaths? I think it's better than being killed by a Career or mutt.**

 **4\. What do you think of the arena? Some of you guessed it!**

 **Whenever I have a ton of tiny POV's in a small chapter, I skip my Grammarly check. So point out mistakes if you see them!**


	29. Bloodbath

**Mugger Rootshorn (17), District Three**

The gong sounds and I sprint towards Sunny. Her skinny frame is slowly making her way towards a backpack, and I know I can beat her. Then I slip on the salt and fall flat on my face. Shit. Blood squirts out of the broken cartilage and I scream in pain. A weight lands on my back before I can think.

"This is what you deserve you son of a bitch," snarls Nolan, slamming a canteen into the back of my skull. A crack resounds through my ear canals, and I know something is broken. I can't move my legs.

 _This is it. Looks like I'm dying._

For some reason, I'm not afraid. I'm not even angry. I think I'm all burnt out. Bullies are the type of people that enjoy being villains. I know how horrible I am. I know what people think of me. I'm proud of it because that's who I am. Karma always gets its way, and I'm happy to have created a legacy for all future bullies. I've certainly set a high bar.

 _Hasta la vista, Earth._

I'm not a religious person, so I'm not sure what's about to happen. My mother and Rita will make sure nothing bad happens to me. They'll say their stupid prayers just like they did when Father died. He was a bully, too. They said he went to heaven. They said God forgives. I don't know if I want to be forgiven.

We'll just have to see.

* * *

 **Sabrina Volta (16), District Five**

I'm in the thick of the fighting, which I regret. Palata and I are the strongest and oldest, so we're getting supplies. Calico is helping Sunny get extra gear around the podiums. Looking back, I was an idiot for agreeing to do this. I should have stayed back with them.

"Duck!" screams Palata. I obey, ducking right under Frank's sword. My back leg kicks high above my head, and I know I've hit my mark. Frank clutches his nose with a scream, and I scramble away.

"We need to leave," I say, "We've got enough."

"It's only two backpacks!" she exclaims, "We don't even know if there's water in them!"

"Then go!" I say, trying to get Palata out of immediate danger. She's panicking. "I'll look for water. Keep moving!"

Palata flees, and I begin desperately looking for a canteen. I stuff a few bandages and some thread into one of my pockets. I also find a package of jerky and a knife. Frank is coming back, so I speed up my search. Finally, I spot a gallon jug of water. It won't fit in my pack, so I hold it my free hand.

Frank's sword cuts towards me again, but I parry with my knife. He doesn't expect me to fight back, so I stab out with the blade. It cuts a gash in his arm, distracting him enough for me to flee. His sword flies past my face, but I don't stop running until I reach my alliance.

* * *

 **Calico Damask (14), District Eight**

"What do you mean? You LEFT her?" I scream.

"We need water or we'll die!" Palata wails, "She's getting some! And she told me to leave!"

I knew I couldn't depend on my alliance for anything. I've always been a smart, independent thinker. I should have volunteered to get supplies with Sabrina. She's our best fighter, and we can't afford to lose her.

"Hey, she's back!" exclaims Sunny.

Sabrina throws a backpack and it plops right at my feet. I sling it over my shoulder and run like hell. The other three girls run with me. It might be risky, but we're heading towards the mountains. The tall rocks will provide protection and hiding places, which we really need right now. A few tributes are running the same way, but the mountains are vast. We shouldn't run into anyone if we lay low.

 _Well, I survived the bloodbath. That's more than some people can say._

* * *

 **Juliet "Jules" Mohr (17), District One**

I knew Dorian would target me. His eyes kept darting my way during the countdown, and he didn't even hesitate to jump on my back at the Cornucopia. My body flattens to the ground with my sword arm trapped underneath. I flail and curse, but his fists slam into my body like wrecking balls. Soon I'm covered in welts.

"Let go of her!" Kiara screams, holding a katana at Dorian's throat. He kicks her in the shin, sending the poor girl sprawling on her back. He pounces on her with a grunt.

 _Oh no, you don't._

My fists cut into his cheeks, poking three clean holes in each one. He gasps out in pain, which only drives my attachable claws deeper. Soon they're in his windpipe. His legs wrap around my knees, sending me tumbling on top of him.

I would have died if it wasn't for Kiara.

"YOU BITCH!" screams Dorian, holding up his stump arm. Kiara just cut it with her katana, and Dorian's sword clatters across the Cornucopia floor. His arm is now a bloody mess.

"That's what you get when you fight Careers," I whisper in his ears. Before he can reply, I slash my claws across his throat. The Tens and Dorian are gone. So is Mugger, judging by the bloody mass next to the Cornucopia. Four down, nineteen to go.

* * *

 **Matt Sickle (17), District Nine**

"DIE!" she snarls, throwing herself off the podium. She slams into me before I've even moved. Both of us hit the metal podium with a crack, and I know I'll have some painful bruises in the morning. It's pretty much a clawing duel at this point. We're both unarmed and flailing in the salt. Darren changes everything. His massive fist hits Avery in the jaw, sending her reeling into the podium again.

"Looked like you needed me," the Eleven boy says.

"I did," I reply.

We both get in a fighting stance, preparing for Avery's next attack. She's bent over on the ground making groaning noises. Blood comes out of her nose and stains the white salt. I'm glad I'm not on Darren's bad side.

Then the knife flies out of nowhere.

She was faking being injured. It hits Darren in the shoulder and he screams louder than I thought possible. Avery launches herself at me while he's hurt, and soon we're on the ground again. She holds a second knife at my throat, and at that moment I know it's all over.

 _I guess the Blue gang came out on top. Just like last time._

The bloodbath is full of surprises, but nothing is more surprising than Vaska's murderous face. He grabs Avery by the hair, ignoring her kicks and screams. His fist hits her in the head, and she falls unconscious without a word. Venus runs up, ignores me, grabs Vaska by the arm, and the two of them run away. Avery's limp body is slung over Vaska's shoulder.

 _What did I just see?_

For some strange reason, I feel bad for Avery. Whatever awaits her with Vaska can't be good.

* * *

 **Venus Albryte (14), District Six**

The gong sounded before I could formulate another plan, but I know water is essential. My feet carry me straight to the Cornucopia entrance, but nobody pays attention to me. I'm just a little girl. I snatch a canteen full of water, snatch a second one for Vaska, and run away. I remember to get a knife for Vaska as well. He won't settle for hand-made weapons.

He's got Avery. I have no clue how he knocked her out, but I grab his arm and run anyways. As long as I'm not the target of his blood cravings, I don't _care_ who he kills.

* * *

 **Lusitania "Lusi" Bream (18), District Four**

I launch a spear after the girl alliance, but it clatters to the ground right at Calico's heels. Damn. I can't believe Frank let the girl get away. She must have some tricks up her sleeve if she managed to escape a Career.

 _We all have tricks up our sleeves. That's why I need to be careful._

Nolan is helping Cendko chase down Hudson, Kiara and Jules are fighting Dorian, and Frank is half-heartedly chasing the girl alliance even though they're too far ahead of him. I'm supposed to pick off the stragglers, so I scope out the area.

The Seven boy is running towards the mountains, and he appears to be armed. So is the Seven girl. Matt and Darren are hobbling away from the Cornucopia, and neither of them appears to have supplies. I could go after them, but I'm met with a more troubling realization. Moira has disappeared. She can't be running away, or I would see her.

 _Where are you, Ms. Nutty?_

I find her inside the Cornucopia, threatening Gordon with a knife. His blood seeps out on the floor while he cries softly. He's already missing an arm and an ear. She's about to gore out one of his eyes.

"Hold it right there," I snarl, whipping out a spear. Moira barrels past me and runs. She's way faster than me. I'll never catch her.

"End it," wails Gordon, "It hurts!"

 _He's just a kid…. But I have to kill him. He's in pain._

"You had a good run, Twelve," I say.

"If you win, tell my dad I tried," he says.

"He's the mayor, right? I'll make sure of it," I reply.

Gordon's face is relaxed and void of all emotion as I prepare myself. He almost looks peaceful. I doubt I'll look that good if I'm about to die. Honestly, I'd probably scream my head off. This kid has more guts than me. My spear drives into his heart, and he's dead instantly.

* * *

 **Hudson Bernhagen (15), District Eight**

Maybe it was a bad idea to taunt Cendko about his missing arm. Now he and Nolan are chasing me across the salt flat. I'm not the skinniest person in the world, so I sound like a dying walrus. My gasps slow me down, and soon Cendko knocks me to the ground with his sword.

"I'm stronger than you'll ever be," says Cendko simply, driving his sword into my throat. I thrash and scream, but no sound comes out. He's broken through my windpipe.

 _Welp. I had a good run._

* * *

 **First of all, sorry these POV's are all over the place in length. I try to keep them similar, but some sections need to be more descriptive than others.**

 **22nd place: Mugger Rootshorn (beat to death by Nolan): Mugger was a horrible person. Nobody liked him from the very start, mostly because he wasn't meant to be liked. He was really only for comedic relief and served no purpose in the storyline or Games. He was funny while he lasted, though. Thank you hollowman96 for submitting Mugger, and HA! I DID kill him in the bloodbath! I told you I would! You still have Moira to root for. Anyways, his family probably won't miss him. Maybe his mother, since she's a nice woman.**

 **21st place: Dorian Fritz (windpipe punctured by Jules): I always thought Dorian was a pretty cool dude. Fighting crime isn't exactly easy, especially when you're putting your own life at risk. He was gruff and mean, but at the same time, he was caring. He died trying to take down a Career and give someone else a better chance. He failed, but only because I didn't want a Career to die in the bloodbath. In any other story he might have succeeded because of his strength. Dorian's a good man that tried to do good things, and I'm sorry to see him go. Thank you Namelessghoul for submitting him, and at least you still have Darren!**

 **20th place: Gordon Matthew (stabbed in the heart by Lusi): Gordon was a pretty boring dude, but only because his submitter wanted him to be. His form was pretty short, and I couldn't really do anything with him. But he was a very killable tribute which makes my job easier. I only put him through so much pain because Moira needed someone to torture. At least Lusi put him out of his misery before he lost an eye as well. Thank you Adithya23 for the cool bloodbath tribute, and at least you still have Frank to root for!**

 **19th place: Hudson Bernhagen (stabbed in the throat by Cendko): I wanted Cendko to get a kill in the bloodbath, and Hudson seemed like a good choice because of his tendency to insult touchy people. Cendko doesn't want to be overshadowed and underestimated, so Hudson's rude remarks really hit their mark. Unfortunately, Cendko is ten times as strong as Hudson. Like Mugger, Hudson was fun while he lasted. Maybe they can prance around in the afterlife and tease people together. Thanks Taylor for submitting a bloodbath tribute, and good luck to Jules!**

 **Many of you may have realized I didn't kill your bloodbath tribute. That's because I got ten of them. Plus I get attached to tributes really easily, so there are certain tributes I just can't kill unless they make it far.**

 **I think this was a decent bloodbath. It felt a little choppy to me, but that's because I suck at writing super action-packed scenes. Maybe you enjoyed it. Who knows.**

 **1\. Are you surprised that all of the girl alliance survived?**

 **2\. What will Vaska do to Avery?**

 **3\. Are Matt and Darren in a bad position?**

 **4\. Why aren't the Sevens in on the action?**

 **5\. What will the Careers' first move be?**

 **Sponsoring is now OPEN! Even if you don't have a tribute, you can sponsor someone. (Yes Mocha, that includes you xD). I'm pretty lenient, just don't sponsor someone fifteen canteens. Or full knight armor. And yes, you can sponsor tributes besides your own.**


	30. We All Scream For Ice Cream!

**Ivy de Lima (16), District Seven**

My face is already drenched in sweat from exertion. This stupid salt flat is freaking miserable. An hour has passed since the bloodbath, and I'm trying to find shelter. The Careers will be on the hunt in a few hours. Unlike most tributes, I took my chances out on the salt flats. There's plenty of rock formations to hide behind if you're smart enough to find them. Plus, the Careers are bound to search the mountains first.

Fortunately, I find a decent structure of rock. It's covered with holes, like swiss cheese, and I'm able to wedge my body in the shadows. Hopefully an onlooker wouldn't even notice me.

 _Don't worry Mom. I'm coming home._

I clutch my favorite rock close to my chest. It's the one Father gave me before he died. It sits in the center of my rock collection shelf, and a simple glance at it gives me tons of motivation and strength. Jessica didn't mope around during _her_ Games. I need to keep up my feisty attitude and win this thing.

During the bloodbath I grabbed a few essentials, but not much else. My pack contains a half-full canteen, a few strips of jerky, and a flashlight. Why do I need a flashlight in the desert? The front pocket holds a coil of rope. Overall, a decent haul that should last me a day or two. When I run out of water, hopefully I can steal from the Cornucopia. The Careers will leave a guard, but everyone has to sleep at some point.

"How did you do it, Jessica?" I whisper to my rock. I already feel homesick and scared, and it hasn't even been two hours yet. How will I survive two _weeks?_ Plenty of Victors went insane during their Games. Hopefully I don't do the same.

Cannons begin to blast through the desert. _One…. Two….. Three….. Four….. Five… Six… Nothing._ Six tributes dead in the bloodbath. I know the Tens and Mugger died, since I saw it happen. The other three could be anyone.

 _I'm in a good position. Now I need to survive the night._

* * *

 **Frank Tides (18), District Four**

"Lusi, Jules, Kiara, and I will scout the mountains tonight," says Nolan, "Frank and Cendko can sleep in shifts at the Cornucopia. Am I clear?"

"Like glass," says Jules sarcastically.

I help Lusi pack her bag, slightly nervous since Nolan is splitting us up. Lusi and I are the obvious threats, and it makes sense to split us in order to take her out. Maybe Nolan and Jules were faking the "enemies" thing. Maybe they're taking Lusi and Kiara into the mountains to kill them. I feel like I'm being paranoid, but it's a concern nonetheless.

"Are you sure you want to go?" I whisper quietly.

"I'm sure," says Lusi, "If they were trying to kill me, they would have done it during the bloodbath. The chaos would hide their tracks."

"True," I breathe, "Just be careful."

The four of them march out of camp and across the salt flat. We're all coated in the white substance already. I'd _kill_ for a shower right about now. I'm used to the smell from living in District Four, but the others have resorted to holding a cloth over their nostrils when they breathe. Apparently it stings their noses. I actually like the smell, since it reminds me of home.

Lusi and I plan to lay low and leave the Careers when tensions begin to grow. Hopefully Kiara and Nolan will be gone by then, since Jules seems fed up with her district partner and Kiara is weak. The two of us can handle Jules, it's Cendko we're worried about. He fought well in the bloodbath, and we appear to have underestimated him. Getting friendly with him can't hurt.

"How are you holding up?" I ask.

He shrugs. "I'm used to shitty situations. This doesn't really faze me."

I wish I could be as calm as Cendko. All he focuses on is winning. My mind can't stop jumping from one issue to the next, and deep down I can feel a rising panic building in my chest. I never wanted to be in the Games. I never wanted to kill.

 _At least Jason is safe. He'd be dead already._

* * *

 **Palata Browns (15), District Eleven**

"Eek!" squeals Calico, holding up her sponsor gift triumphantly. My own gift sits unopened in my lap. The note attached to the side keeps me from opening it. No doubt this is from my father. I've been trying to detach from him as much as possible, but it seems the Capitol will never forget the billboard girl. The only way I can become my own person is to win. Then people are sure to take me seriously.

"What's in it?" asks Sabrina, peering over Calico's shoulder.

"ICE CREAM!" exclaims Calico. She rips out the insulation and cardboard, then hastily tears open the note. "Eat it fast. You don't want a mess," she reads, "Thanks for the advice, Styla."

"We might even eat it _too_ fast," I joke.

"That's a lot of calories," Sunny says nervously.

"SUNNY!" we scream in union.

"Okay, okay," she says, flustered, "I haven't had anything since this morning. As long as we skip dinner."

"Sunny, you're wasting away!" snorts Calico, "Here, have an ice cream cone!" She scoops out heaping amounts of chocolate, mint, and strawberry and plasters them in the cone. Then she hands it to Sunny with a smirk. We all laugh at her startled face, but she eats it anyways. We celebrate our survival with ice cream cones. Then we make a banana split. Then we taste each flavor of sprinkles. Our sponsors sent us everything we need, like syrups and toppings. Soon we polished off all five tubs of the delicious substance.

"Palata, what's in your gift?" asks Sabrina.

"Yeah, open her up!" says Calico, "I hope it's milk. I can't get the taste of strawberry out of my mouth. Or soda! That would be better!"

 _Do I want to open it? Wouldn't that be accepting my past? I can't let my rich father bring me out of the Games. I don't want his nasty gifts. I can win all by my self._

A quick glance at our supplies changes my mind. None of the backpacks contain water, so Sabrina's gallon jug is all we have. Every human is supposed to drink a gallon of water a day, but we can live on a fourth. That equals _one day._ If this gift contains water, then we need it.

 _Open it._

I rip off the note and stick it in my pocket. I'll read that while the others are distracted. They can't know who this is from. Inside the box is a huge canteen full of ice cold water. The other three girls squeal happily and all of us savor a single sip of the liquid. Then we cap it and hoard it away so we're not tempted. While the others lay down on the cave floor, I silently open my note.

" _Don't forget to smile, honey. They like the happy ones."_

That stupid son of a bitch. He's _still_ caught up in his business! He doesn't care that I'm in the Games. He doesn't care that I'm trying to be my own person. I've got news for him. I'm gonna win without his stupid gifts. I'll accept the water, just because we really need it. But anything else is getting thrown off the mountain without regret.

* * *

 **Darren Whitaker (18), District Eleven**

It's starting to get dark. Matt and I stumbled away from the mountain during the bloodbath, since we're injured and unarmed. My left arm is completely useless. Avery's knife cut something vital, because I can't even raise it without immense pain. Matt isn't much better, since he can hardly move. His whole body is riddled with bruises that have turned a dark shade of green. We're pretty miserable.

"I'd give up my house for some water right now," groans Matt.

"I'd give up my arm!" I exclaim.

My throat is raw and swollen from breathing in salt. It only amplifies my dehydration to another level. I drank more water than I thought possible this morning, but I honestly think it evaporated out of my stomach. Torture would be less painful than this. I can imagine Tarren's tear-streaked face as she desperately wanders around the district asking for money. She said she would sponsor me.

"Water," I whisper to the sky. Maybe she'll hear my plee. I don't care if we use our whole life savings. If I win, we'll have more money than we know what to do with. Tarren and I can get married and live the life we always wanted. We won't defy the Capitol or get overly involved in the Games. A simple life is all I need. A simple life with the girl of my dreams.

 _What would happen to her if I lost?_

The thought of losing is unbearable. My siblings are already orphans. Haven't they lost enough? They don't deserve this. They don't deserve to live in District Eleven. We should live in a huge mansion with nothing but fun and laughter in our future. Haven't we suffered enough?

"I feel bad for Avery," Matt croaks.

"Mhm," I grunt.

"No, _really_ bad."

"What's your point?"

Matt sits up and looks me in the eyes. They're filled with tears, which throws me off guard. Matt seemed like a calm dude in the Capitol. I thought nothing could faze him. Now he looks guilty, and I can tell he's in immense pain.

"She's from home," Matt whispers, "My district should be ashamed of me. Instead of trying to cure the rift between our gangs, I plotted to kill her. That's shameful."

 _Oh no._ "What are you proposing?" I ask, scared to hear his answer.

"We save her," Matt says simply. He looks me in the eyes with hardened features. He's completely decided on the matter. We're weak, dehydrated, and injured. And now Matt wants to take on Vaska and Venus? Is he completely insane?

I must be insane as well. Because I agreed with him.

* * *

 **CHANDER FORREST-** Sabrina Volta

We all knew he was going first, but that didn't make us any less guilty. He was too innocent for the Games. No crippled child should be forced into this. Every eligible male in District Ten should be ashamed, because anyone could volunteer and stand a better chance than Chander.

* * *

 **CATHERINE HILL-** Hideki Ora

Her death was obvious as well, but nobody wanted to see it. At least she went quickly and painlessly. Her district should be proud of her for staying so strong. The Tens deaths mean I have one less alliance to depend on, but I'm glad I didn't have to betray them.

* * *

 **MUGGER ROOTSHORN-** Nolan Bronze

I feel no guilt. If it was Catherine or Chander I might feel mildly guilty, but such a horrible person deserved to die. Careers kill and intimidate to win, but Mugger did it for sport. There's no honor in killing for fun.

* * *

 **DORIAN FRITZ-** Jules Mohr

He was an honorable opponent that went with valor. He didn't let anyone push him around or tell him what do do, and I'm sure he would have made a great Career. I'm proud to have fought him. Stubborn and ambitious people never win the Games because they have no logic. For Dorian, it got him killed.

* * *

 **GORDON MATTHEW-** Lusi Bream

My first kill. Gordon's emotionless face flashes in the sky, and I suddenly feel guilty. Then I tell myself it was a mercy kill, which is true. He was being tortured by Moira. A Career doesn't seem so bad compared to her. I do plan to uphold my promise and find his father when I win.

* * *

 **HUDSON BERNHAGEN-** Cendko Pillars

Nobody teases me. Compared to me, Hudson is a mere child. I've suffered more than some men during their whole _lifetime._ Killing Hudson brought me no grief or guilt. He deserved it, and he certainly got what he asked for.

* * *

 **Marshall Yablonski, Victor of the 101st Hunger Games**

Chander died with honor, just like I told him to. He was a good kid that shouldn't even be here. I didn't know him for long, but he'll always hold a special place in my heart. He wasn't like my other dead tributes because he knew he didn't have a chance. And he accepted it like a man.

* * *

 **Samuel Pollock, Victor of the 79th Hunger Games**

Cathy disappeared. When I'm sober I remember her presence. I drown myself in grief by drinking more and more. Sometimes I think the pain will disappear, but then I remember there's been thirty-seven Cathy's since I won the Hunger Games. And not a single one came back.

* * *

 **DISTRICT TEN**

When Catherine and Chander died, something in District Ten died as well. It's one thing to watch an eighteen-year-old fall after five days of struggle, but two innocent twelve-year-olds? This time the Capitol went too far. Catherine's parents built a shrine in her honor, but only Joesph understands what it means. He's the protector of the siblings now. Baths and stories will never be the same without her cheerful presence. Not as many people remembered Chander, but his twin sister and parents will never refill the gaping hole he left. His wheelchair was returned with his body, and it serves as a constant reminder that nobody is safe from the dreaded Hunger Games.

* * *

 **I threw the cannons and mentors in this chapter as well. I think it turned out alright. Remember, sponsoring is now open! You can send anything from water to ice cream, as you saw illustrated in this chapter xD. Send as many notes as you want. They really help me with development.**

 **1\. Is Ivy in a good position? How long will she be able to stay in her rock formation?**

 **2\. Who will be the first Career death? How long will the pack stay together?**

 **3\. What do you think of Palata's development? She's been tough for me to write, but I think I'm getting better with each of her POVs.**

 **4\. What do you think of the Matt-Avery situation?**

 **Goldie: Matt and Darren need water badly if you want to sponsor them. Just letting you know so they don't go into a fight dehydrated.**


	31. Buttheads and Stingers

**Vaska Napier (17), District Six**

The mountains offer protection from the sun, so Venus decided we'd stay in our little cave for a few days. We don't have food, but humans can survive weeks without it. It's water that really concerns me. Venus grabbed two canteens in the bloodbath, but those won't last long at the rate we're going.

"Stop drinking it all!" shrieks Venus, "We're gonna run out!"

"Come on, the sponsors can't get their hands off of me," I joke, "Hey, here's one now!"

I don't believe it. A sponsor gift appeared at that exact moment. I rush to the cave entrance and scoop it up, chuckling at the murderous glare Venus is giving me. The parachute is marked with "D6M", so clearly, the gift is meant for me. I unscrew the cap, revealing a serrated knife. Underneath is a curved knife. Perfect torture weapons. I give Venus the knife she got in the bloodbath, choosing to keep the torture knives all to myself. It's not like _she'll_ use them.

"So," says Venus after she got over being salty, "What are we gonna do about _her?"_ She points to Avery, who's unconscious in the corner.

"If I get a craving, I'll kill her," I say, "For now, leave her be. We'll tie her up with rope."

"Where are you gonna get _rope?"_ asks Venus.

"OH _SPONSORS_!" I bellow, holding my hand out the cave entrance. A parachute lands in my grasp right on cue. Venus looks ready to murder me, but I know she doesn't have the guts. She's scared of me, deep down. Her eyes are filled with a hidden emotion every time she looks my way, and it's alway been like that. Even at the workshop, when she'd fix our weapons and tools. The other gang boys dismissed her as a simple blacksmith girl, but I know she's smarter than she lets on. She's always calculating her next move. That's what kept her out of trouble all these years.

 _Well, now she's in trouble._ I'm _gonna win the 116th Hunger Games, and even she won't stand in my way._

* * *

 **Hideki Ora (15), District Seven**

I followed the girls all the way to their little cave, and now I'm debating my best move. Should I rush in and announce my presence? I grabbed a knife and a canteen during the bloodbath, so I don't have much to offer them. Hopefully, just the sight of me will assure them that there's no threat. I'm pretty skinny and unthreatening.

"Hey!" I shout. The chatter inside the cave ceases immediately, and I hear panicked whispers coming from the four girls. Someone has started crying. "Listen, I mean no harm. It's Hideki from District Seven," I say, trying to sound as peaceful as possible.

A full minute passes before anyone speaks up. "Drop all your supplies at the entrance," says a voice that sounds like Calico. I obediently place my knife and canteen outside the cave, and it's snatched by a pair of hands before I can process my own actions. Was it really smart to give them my only supplies?

"Hello?" I say nervously. Are they going to ignore me?

"You can come in," says Calico. I get on my hands and knees and crawl inside the cave, holding a very cautious stance. There's no telling what a bunch of scared girls will do when they feel threatened.

 _I hope this was worth it._

"What do you want?" demands Sabrina, glaring daggers at me. She looks angry and fierce, and my knife is now in her grasp. Calico appears to be armed as well. Palata and Sunny are crouched behind their allies, and Sunny's face is streaked with tears.

 _How did these people escape the bloodbath?_

"Just an alliance," I say, "It's dangerous to be on your own. Especially with the Careers roaming the mountains."

The girls whisper amongst themselves and clearly come to a unanimous decision. "You can stay," Calico says, "But you have to leave if we tell you to. Okay?"

I smile. "Okay, Alliance Leader. Looks like I was too late for the ice cream!" We all have a good laugh, and the girls cuddle up in a big pile to sleep. Sabrina takes first watch.

That was too easy.

* * *

 **Kiara Wong (16), District Two**

"What was that?" asks Lusi. The rest of us stop and listen. Sure enough, a hissing sound can be heard clearly in the night. We're standing on a rocky slope, so we're not in the best position for a fight. I know I'm the weakest link, so sticking by my allies is important. My arms tremble as I hold out my katana.

"Jules, Lusi, go investigate," orders Nolan.

"Oh, so you can watch us get our _faces ripped apart?_ Nuh uh. My ass is staying right here," says Jules.

"YOU-" hollers Nolan.

"GUYS!" snarls Lusi, pointing at a rock pile, "We've got bigger problems."

"Wh-what is it?" I whimper. This night has been nothing but terrifying. First, we almost slipped off a cliff face, and now we're being stalked by an unknown enemy. I'm not cut out for the Games. It's getting harder and harder to keep up my act.

 _Pull yourself together. Kimora needs you back in District Two._

We all gasp as a massive claw reaches out from the rocks. Another claw appears, followed by a massive stinger, and I realize that it's a scorpion. A five-foot long scorpion. With a stinger dripping with green liquid. None of us even hesitate to run back down the slope, and the scorpion certainly doesn't waste any time. It's on Lusi in an instant, and her screams echo around the mountains serving as a warning for any tributes nearby.

"LUSI!" I scream. The scorpion stings her in the calf, then squeals as Nolan's sword cuts through its outer shell. Now that the stinger is gone, Jules and Nolan are able to dispatch the beast without any difficulty. It's Lusi that's in trouble. My medical knowledge from training kicks in.

"What's wrong with her?" Jules asks, not sounding particularly concerned.

"She's poisoned," I say slowly, trying to suppress the panic rising in my chest, "She'll die without medicine. Depending on the strength of the poison, it could be anywhere from one to three hours. She's running out of time."

"So do we beg?" asks Nolan.

"Yes, but first we need to tie a tourniquet around her thigh," I say, "It'll slow the poison and hopefully keep it from reaching her heart. Someone give me some cloth. Elastic would be better."

Jules throws all her morals aside and strips, giving me her torn bra. I cut the fabric and tie a tight knot around Lusi's thigh. She screams and curses, but pain is good. It means the poison hasn't numbed her nerves yet.

" _Now_ we beg," I say.

* * *

 **Moira Locke (17), District Three**

The scorpion mutts are beautiful. I'm stranded out on the salt flat, so they quickly surround me in a battle formation. The largest scorpion hisses and clicks to the others, giving them their instructions. I should be scared, but I can't help but be fascinated. I wish I could be the Gamemaker that creates such glorious beings.

 _So this is how those boys felt._

Pain is still fascinating, even when it's my own. I tell myself that it's nerves firing to the brain, and suddenly the pain stops. It's a dull hum in the back of my mind. I begin to think about the more important things, like dying. I'm not dumb; I can feel myself slipping away from this world. All bodies must die eventually. I believe my body is just a host. My spirit will drift away and live on in another world, a world full of people like me.

 _Good job, mutts. Enjoy your reward._

Everything goes black as the mutts begin feasting on my host body. I hear the blast of a cannon. This isn't the end for me.

* * *

 **18th place: Moira Locke (devoured by scorpion mutts): Moira was a creepo that I didn't really need in this story. With the whole Vaska situation, I was never sure how she fit into the overall storyline. Plus, she was very difficult for me to write, so I said screw it and picked her off. It was going to happen eventually, I just chose to do it now. I had this death chosen for her from the start. Thank you hollowman96 for a tribute that I didn't really do justice. You have no more tributes left, but I hope you'll still keep reading.**

 **I'm trying to keep up with daily updates, but don't be surprised if I skip a day. I'll probably start writing the next chapter right now in case I can't update tomorrow.**

 **I sponsored Vaska some rope since it was too good to pass up. Venus was so angry xD. The knives came from their submitter, though. Nobody worry about sponsoring Matt and Darren because they have a few pending sponsor gifts that will be in next chapter. Unless you want to be nice and give them more. They're going to receive water and medicine, but weapons might be useful if you want them to put up a fight.**

 **Tracelynn: Lusi needs an antidote or she'll die.**

 **1\. How long will Vaska keep Avery tied up? Will Matt and Darren get to her on time?**

 **2\. Are the girls too trusting of Hideki? What will he do to destroy their alliance?**

 **3\. Are the mountains too dangerous for the Careers to go hunting every night? Should they hunt in the salt flats instead?**

 **4\. Are you satisfied with Moira's death, or do you think she should have gone further?**


	32. Gifts from the Heavens

**Lextra Diode, Victor of the 41st Hunger Games**

I didn't think Moira would die so early, but I can't force myself to be sad about it. I wish people like her were Reaped every year. Then I wouldn't have to watch helpless little girls die year after year. I can return to District Three with my head held high because both of our tributes deserved to die.

* * *

 **Wyatt Neti, Victor of the 82nd Hunger Games**

Lextra and I don't have to be ashamed this year. Usually, we return to Three with our heads down and faces blank, but this year will be more like a celebration. Mugger's family might be upset, but the rest of the district certainly isn't. I burn his guitar and throw the ashes out the hovercraft window. Now I'll never have to look at it again.

* * *

 **DISTRICT THREE**

Wyatt and Lextra were received like heroes. Streamers and balloons flew around the district for weeks, because nobody had to feel guilty for once. Mugger and Moira were gone, and the world was a better place without them. Moira's crimes were discovered, and her sister Alyssa was questioned with scrutiny. She seemed like the only person sad about Moira's death, but we found her to be innocent. She was never the same person after that, and one night we found her dead in her bathtub. The Locke family has been wiped off the face of the planet. Mugger's family was a little harder to ignore, but his mother admitted that life was better without him. She vowed to raise Rina differently, and we certainly hoped she kept her promise. W.A.T.S. was disbanded by Peacekeepers and their sexist songs were forgotten by everyone in the district.

* * *

 **Nolan Bronze (18), District One**

"Thank GOD!" hisses Lusi, staring up at the parachutes. All four of us desperately grab at the tins of supplies that have been sent by our gracious sponsors. Sponsors could be the difference between life and death. I make sure to appear grateful.

"A bra!" squeals Jules, stripping once again, "NOLAN! LOOK AWAY, YOU PERVERT!"

"I can't help it," I say, grinning maliciously, "You have nice boobs."

"And these boobs are gonna kick your ass if you don't look away," she snarls.

"Bring it on."

"Can we stop talking about boobs? Lusi is sort of dying, you know," Kiara scolds. She opens another sponsor gift marked with a four. It contains a syringe that's at least three inches long. It makes me shiver. I may be a big tough Career, but needles are the only thing that terrifies me. Needles always hurt, no matter how strong you are.

The color in Lusi's face returns almost immediately. I have to say, I didn't expect Kiara to be so useful. I mostly kept her around since she's a bigger target than me, but tonight she proved her use. Maybe we should keep her around a little longer than I originally planned.

"Look!" says Jules, shooting me a smug glare, "Someone sent me a badge that says number one Career. What did _you_ get?"

I open my own gift. The look on Jules' face says it all.

"No WAY!" she chirps, collapsing on the ground with laughter.

"A freaking SALT SHAKER?" I snarl, "IS THIS A JOKE?"

 _These sponsors think I'm a_ joke. _Well, I'll show them. I'm gonna win the Hunger Games and rub it in their fat asses. Nobody messes with Nolan Bronze and gets away with it._

* * *

 **Ivy de Lima (16), District Seven**

The sunrise is beautiful out here on the salt flat. There's no buildings or structures to obstruct the horizon. Many colors of pink, orange, and yellow form together to create a stunning display in the sky. If Panem ever falls, I want to live in a place like this.

Yesterday my canteen was half-full, but now it's almost empty. The nights are almost as hot as the days. Eventually, I'll have to raid the Cornucopia or I'll die of thirst. The Careers returned early in the morning to rest inside the horn, so I'll have to wait until nightfall. Hopefully, they leave Kiara or Cendko on guard. I might be able to beat them.

My first sponsor gift comes soon after I wake up. It's a can of salted peanuts.

"Are you serious?" I hiss, fuming with anger. What idiotic Capitolite sent me _salted peanuts?_ I'm slowly dying of thirst, and they think _more_ salt will solve all my problems?

Luckily, the second gift doesn't disappoint. I open the tin to find a cold bottle of water. I savor its coolness against my face and decide to take a small sip. One sip can't hurt. But the water is too tempting, and my throat is too raw. I take gulp after gulp, realizing halfway that I can't waste all my water. I cap the bottle and shove it in my bag so I won't be tempted again. To ease my thirst I nibble on some beef jerky.

 _This sucks._

I always wanted to be free. As a girl, I would imagine prancing through a meadow without a care in the world. But this isn't free. I may be surrounded by the vastness of the salt flat, but that doesn't make me free. A forcefield keeps me from leaving. Finding another human being could mean death. That's not freedom.

 _Someday_ I'll be free. Winning the Hunger Games won't make me free. But Victors have a large influence in the districts, and one of my actions could result in rebellion. Rebellion certainly means freedom. If people are willing to cut through the ropes holding them down, we could defeat the Capitol once and for all.

From this moment on, I vow never to obey the Capitol. I'll kill only to win, so I can return to the districts and spark the rebellion that's been smoldering for ages. Only then will I truly be free.

* * *

 **Calico Damask (14), District Eight**

Hideki suggested we keep climbing upwards despite the dangers it might pose. Being higher than the other tributes gives us an edge, as well as an early warning if we're about to be attacked. Plus, the Careers probably won't climb this high into the mountains if they want to reach the Cornucopia again by sunrise.

My mind never stops working, even as we trudge up a steep slope. It may sound morbid, but I'm already thinking about my alliance members dying off. We're the weakest tributes left, so the Gamemakers are bound to send mutts after us eventually. I'm only trying to prepare myself for the worst.

If I had to pick one ally to stay by my side, it would be Sabrina. She's strong, resourceful, and seems able to take care of herself. Sunny is a crybaby no matter how you put it, and Palata isn't exactly strong, so they'll likely be the first two to go. Then there's Hideki. Something seems a little off about him, but I can't quite place it. He _did_ suggest moving to higher ground, which seems like a good idea. I think we can trust him for now.

"I prefer orange," says Sunny, "Red is too bright and yellow is too plain. Orange is a good mix of both."

"You're crazy!" exclaims Sabrina, "Blue is where it's at."

"Nuh uh," counters Hideki, " _Green._ "

"Of course _you'd_ say that tree boy," Sabrina fires back.

"Honestly!" I huff, "You guys are unbearable. Do you realize we're in a televised deathmatch? And you're arguing about your favorite color?"

My words bring silence to our little troop. Nobody wants to be reminded of where we are. It's likely that all five of us will be dead within the next week. In the outrageously impossible event that one of us manages to win, _four_ of us still have to die. I've trusted math my entire life, and those odds are too horrible to ignore.

"O-one of us will win, right?" asks Sunny, trembling.

"Yes," says Hideki with a hint of malice, " _One_ of us will win."

I wish I could say "I hope it's one of you," but that wouldn't be the truth. We're all selfish people deep down. All five of us are willing to stab their allies in the back. It's horrible but true.

 _I could always push them off the mountain. Then it would be quick. And I won't have to watch it._

* * *

 **Matt Sickle (17), District Nine**

"Let's go over the plan one more time," I say.

"Matt," Darren says, exasperated, "I get it. I still think it's insane, but I get it."

We each take a small sip of water before we set out. Our sponsors sent us a canteen of water. Then some idiot sent us coffee, which we stuck in our bag without hesitation. The buzz of caffeine sounds good, but it'll only make us more dehydrated.

"Hang on, there's another gift," Darren says. He catches it and I lean over his shoulder eagerly. It's a sling and a small box of medicine. Darren's arm is useless without surgery, but the sling should keep it from dangling and getting worse. The medicine is for my bruises. After eating a pill and smearing some cream on the purple spots, I feel a lot better.

We travel for the rest of the day, and I'm glad for the farmer hat that came with our tribute outfit. Darren's skin is made for the sun, but I'm white. White people burn in the sun. Darren jokes that I look like a naked mole rat.

"What the hell is a naked mole rat?"

"We have them in Eleven," says Darren, "It's exactly what it sounds like."

Climbing the mountain is torture. Darren only has one arm to work with, and my whole body aches with bruises. We take an incline that leads to more and more inclines. Every time I think we're at the top, a new slope appears. By nightfall, we're utterly exhausted.

"I don't know where they are," Darren groans, adjusting his sling, "But we have to be close. Let's stay in a cave for the night."

"They might kill her!" I exclaim, "Heck, she might already be dead. There was a cannon last night."

"We need rest. Vaska and Venus are tough opponents, and we don't even have weapons."

Part of me knows Darren is right, so I obey. I don't know why I'm suddenly determined to save Avery, but I think it's just to prove people wrong about me. Everyone in Nine must think the gangs are savages, and I know I'm not bloodthirsty. I want to show people that things can still change. We don't have to kill each other three hundred and fifty-five days a year. The Capitol does enough killing. Banding together will make us stronger.

Maybe we can create an Academy in Nine. One of us can be the instructor. We can train Nine kids for the Games, and they'll volunteer for the innocent kids that don't deserve to die. Then no child will ever have to fear the Reaping again.

* * *

 **Sorry for skipping a day. Migraines suck.**

 **1\. Who's your favorite Career and why?**

 **2\. How long can Ivy last on sponsor gifts alone? When will she raid the Cornucopia?**

 **3\. What do you think of Calico's assessment of her allies? Who do you think is the first to go?**

 **4\. Matt and Darren are very close to Vaska and Venus. Who will win the fight? Will both sides suffer losses?**


	33. The Mission to Save Avery

**MOIRA LOCKE-** Vaska Napier

Moira and I were very similar, even if we had totally different personalities. I never knew much about her, but I know a torturer when I see one. She would have made a fine ally, and I'm disappointed I didn't get to hear her screams on the other end of my knife.

* * *

 **Cendko Pillars (18), District Two**

I'm impressed with Kiara for surviving the night. When Nolan decided to take her hunting, I thought she was doomed for sure. Looks like we all have tricks up our sleeves. I'm glad she survived. It's always comforting to have someone from home to confide in because spending the whole night with Frank was awkward. His weak attempts at conversation only made things worse.

We spent all day resting in the shade of the Horn, and now Nolan is organizing another hunting party. Last night we didn't catch anyone, so nobody wants to fail again.

"Lusi and Kiara can stay back," says Nolan, "Frank, Jules, Cendko, go suit up."

My hands have been pretty clean so far, with only one kill out of seven deaths. Hudson hardly counts, since he was a horrible person. Tonight I'll kill out of mercy, not malice. There are lots of young tributes that are in danger with Vaska and the scorpion mutts running around. I can give them a quick death.

"Should we risk the mountains again?" asks Frank.

"We don't have a choice," says Nolan, "The only tributes on the flats are the Seven girl and the boys from Nine and Eleven. They probably moved to the mountains by now."

"I hope we find Vaska," says Jules, "He's a creepo."

We hunt for most of the night. A cannon sounds at midnight, which we assume to be the Seven girl. She can't possibly have enough water to survive until morning. Just when we're about to turn back, Nolan spots something.

"What is it?" I ask.

"A girl," he says, grinning. Nolan points to a peak about fifty feet up, and sure enough, a girl is crouching at the edge. His muscled arm pulls back, sending a knife hurling into the darkness. It strikes the girl and she falls with a wail. Her screams echo around the mountain as she falls until they finally cease entirely. A cannon fires.

"Let's head back," Nolan orders, "The sun will be up soon."

* * *

 **Darren Whitaker (18), District Eleven**

Matt and I find their cave at sunset. Vaska is sleeping in the corner, knives clutched in his grasp. Venus is silently keeping watch, also armed with a knife. Avery is unarmed and tied up against the cave wall. It was impossible for us to save her without killing the Sixes.

"We need to take out Venus before Vaska wakes up," Matt whispers, "Then you distract him while I untie Avery. Then we get the hell out of there."

"Sounds good," I reply. We're both armed with sharp slabs of rock that we made by throwing boulders off a cliff face. They're sharper than a knife but much heavier and harder to maneuver. We're doomed unless we can take Venus by surprise. In training, she didn't seem very strong, so it should be a piece of cake. Unless something goes wrong.

 _Tarren…. I love you._

The siege begins. Matt swings his rock at Venus' head, but she ducks before he can come in contact. She whips out her knife and begins to spar, and it's clear we underestimated her capabilities. Matt can't keep up with her swift movements, and it's clear that I need to help. My rock slams into her shoulder, and she crumples with a cry of pain. I attempt to drive my rock into her heart, but I'm stopped by a jolt of intense pain.

"Nice try, Eleven," Vaska snarls. His breath tickles the back of my neck, and my eyes widen with horror as I look at the wound in my chest. A curved blade sticks out of my ribs, and with a simple twist, Vaska completely dislodges my ribcage.

 _No… I can't die. Not without seeing Tarren again. This isn't fair. The good guys are supposed to win._

Matt made it to Avery, and the two of them are fleeing for their lives. Venus is too injured to chase them, and Vaska is too preoccupied with me. I can't see myself dying anytime soon with a maniac on the other end of the knife.

 _I can't show my pain. Candy and Tarren couldn't bear it. I need to be strong, for them._

Minutes go by, but I don't cry out. I can't give Vaska the satisfaction of seeing me in pain. His torture knives cut and sculpt my corpse, but the only thing Vaska will get out of me is tears. I'm not crying because of the pain. I'm crying because Tarren is crying. I know she is.

 _Don't cry, Tarren. You get headaches when you cry..._

* * *

 **Tessa Avery (18), District Nine**

I feel alive for the first time in ages. I thought I was alive when I attacked Matt during the bloodbath, but my fun was spoiled when Vaska kidnapped me. _This_ is what it feels like to be alive. I don't even care that Matt is my arch enemy. I don't even care if our gangs have been fighting for more than a century. All that matters is staying alive. We run and scream like hooligans as we run down the mountain.

"Stop!" gasps Matt.

An enormous scorpion lunges for his throat, but I tackle it with my bare hands. Matt strikes its head with his rock, creating a sickening crunch.

"Thanks," he breathes.

"No problem," I say.

Neither of us attacks the other. We stare at each other awkwardly, and for once I'm at a complete loss for words. What should I say? I'm filled with too much adrenaline to be mad at him. Plus, he _did_ just save my life.

"Thanks," I say, just to break the silence.

"N-no problem," he stutters.

"We're not allies, right?" I ask. Please say no. The past few days are swirling around in my head like a tornado, and it's all too confusing for me to process. I've been in too many life or death situations to just forgive him. I can't trust anybody. But then again, he saved my life.

"I don't think so," Matt replies, "Let's just go our separate ways. We've fought for too long. Let the Games play out and we'll see what happens."

"We probably won't run into each other, anyways," I say, relieved that he's just as confused as me.

"Yeah."

"Why did you save me?" I can't help but ask the question, even though it will surely bring more confusion. I just have to know.

"I'm not even sure," Matt says, "But don't get used to it. I just couldn't let Vaska have you."

I still don't understand, but I don't press any further. Matt helps me cut off the scorpion's stinger to use as a weapon. While we're examining the stinger, a cannon sounds. Matt's eyes fill to the brim with tears.

"Darren…" he whispers.

"You need to go," I say, "Vaska will be looking for us."

"Yeah."

And just like that, we separate. I don't know what day it is, who's dead, or what I'm doing. I don't know why Matt saved me, and I don't know why I didn't kill him. I'm full of questions, without any answers. It's a miserable feeling, but I know I'll be able to cope. My gang needs me to come home. That's the only truth I know of. If I keep that at the center of my mind, I can do anything.

* * *

 **Sunny Cole (15), District Twelve**

"Don't lose it, Sabrina!" I yell, straining to catch up to her and Hideki. The mountain rabbit speeds ahead of them, and for a second I think they're going to lose it. It's too dark to see properly, so we're relying on moonlight. Then I hear a shrill squeal, followed by a joyous whoop.

"Got it!" yells Sabrina, holding the rabbit by its hind legs. Her knife sticks out of its face.

"I feel bad for the poor thing," says Calico sympathetically.

"Don't feel bad," Sabrina says, wiping her hands on a rock, "The Gamemakers would have killed it eventually. The animals die off once the Games are over."

Hideki starts a fire and begins roasting the rabbit. I pick up the slimy rabbit guts and head towards the cliff edge to dispose of them. Mutts will be attracted to the smell, and we can't lead them straight to our camp. I hold the guts over the cliff, preparing to drop them. Then something hits my chest. It's a knife.

 _The Careers! No! I don't want to die!_

I scream at the top of my lungs, trying to alert Calico and the others. The Careers can't see the fire because the ledge is blocking our camp. If they keep climbing, they'll see us. If I have to die, I want to die saving my allies. They took me in when Mugger bullied me. I owe them my life because I surely would have died in the bloodbath without their help.

 _I lived a good life._

My body lurches over the edge and the ground speeds towards my face. Cendko and Frank shoot me a sympathetic glance.

 _Drew is sure to notice me now…_

* * *

 **17th place: Darren Whitaker (tortured to death by Vaska): Darren was a fan favorite this year, so I didn't plan to kill him. Then I began planning a future event, and Matt fits in perfectly. Darren just got screwed. He was a pretty ordinary and calm tribute that didn't deserve to be here, and he would have made a great Victor in another story. Thank you Namelessghoul for submitting him. You don't have any tributes left, but I hope you'll still keep reading.**

 **16th place: Sunny Cole (knifed by Nolan, then fell off a ledge): I was going to make this chapter all about the fight to save Avery, but I realized the Careers didn't have a single kill outside of the bloodbath. All four girls in the alliance are practically the same, and Sunny's submitter stopped reviewing, so I chose to kill her. She had a lot of development ahead, but the Games didn't give her enough time. Thank you Red Roses1000 for submitting Sunny, and I hope you're still reading.**

 **Two deaths! Things are finally picking up speed!**

 **1\. Who are your three favorite tributes and why?**

 **2\. Who are your three least favorite tributes and why?**


	34. Mr Butthead Strikes

**Frank Tides (18), District Four**

They killed someone last night. Some poor girl fell victim to Nolan, and I know her memory will haunt me forever. People actually _die_ in the Games. You can't get that realization just by watching them on television. Being a tribute gives me a whole new perspective. All the parties, laughs, and hours spent celebrating the Games mean nothing now. Nine children have been silenced forever, and I used to _celebrate_ that fact. It's sickening.

 _Do I really want to win?_

Winning means becoming a murderer, and I don't want Sienna or Jason to watch me kill. They'll think I'm a monster. But in reality, I _am_ a monster. I tried to kill Sabrina in the bloodbath, and I've already been contemplating how to kill my fellow Careers. They're children, too. I can't punish them just for being misled by the Capitol's promises of fame and glory.

There's only one solution. I need to leave.

 _I can't be around people, anymore. I need to separate myself from them. Maybe then I won't become a monster._

But what about Lusi? I could never have romantic feelings for her, but I do see her as a friend. Leaving her with these savages would break my heart. But she _is_ a savage. Lusi killed a boy during the bloodbath, which makes her one of them. She's a bloodthirsty Career. She wants to win. She would kill me in a heartbeat.

"You okay, Frank?" asks Jules, "You look troubled."

"Er… Yes. I'm fine," I stammer.

"Geesh!" exclaims Kiara, "You're really pale."

"Yeah… I'm not feeling very well. Mind if I take a walk?" I ask.

"Just be back by sundown," says Nolan, "Take your pack and a trident. Pick off the Seven girl if you see her."

 _What an idiot._ Nolan is making this way too easy. I scoop up my bag and a trident, then leave without a word. The rest of the Careers are chatting in the shade of the Cornucopia, so they shouldn't notice where I'm headed. I'm done being a Capitol toy. I volunteered to save my brother, not become a Career. Let them kill the others in cold blood. I want no part of it.

 _Sienna, I'm doing my best._

* * *

 **Jules Mohr (17), District One**

"You _do_ realize he's leaving," I say, glancing at Nolan. I expected him to be fuming, but his face is fairly neutral. He just looks mildly annoyed.

"I know. Maybe he'll get himself killed. Besides, I took the water out of his pack. All that's left is a lighter and his first aid kit. He's doomed out there in the sun."

Sometimes Nolan manages to surprise me with his rare moments of intelligence. We all knew Frank would be the first to go. He's too kind for the Games. Kind people never win, especially when they make themselves enemies of the Careers. Having Frank gone is a huge advantage, especially since Lusi is injured. Now the biggest threat is Nolan.

"I don't understand why he left," says Lusi, staring longingly at his tiny outline on the horizon.

"He's a coward," growls Nolan, "Not even a true Career."

"Don't talk about him like that!" snarls Lusi.

"Oh, and _you're_ gonna stop me?" he snorts, "You couldn't even beat that stupid scorpion."

"Guys!" yells Kiara, "Shut up, will you?"

They continue to argue, and my head begins to throb. Dehydration mixed with the stress of the Games hasn't done much to help my mentality. I haven't thought about Astoria's words since last night, and I try to push them to the back of my mind once again. Why did she tell me that right before the Games? Is she _trying_ to mess me up? Maybe Father told her to say that. He wants Nolan to win, after all.

 _He's gonna be surprised when_ I'm _standing on stage with Ricky Lightman. It's only a matter of time, Nolan. Better watch your back._

* * *

 **Palata Browns (15), District Eleven**

I think the silence is getting to me. My ears grasp desperately for _something,_ but none of us say a word. The rabbit meat sits heavily in my stomach, and with a desperate retching sound, I barf it up onto the rocks. Calico follows suit, and soon we're all crying again. Last night was a wake-up call for me. The Games are cruel, and I can't let myself be lulled into a false sense of security again.

"She's really gone," croaks Calico.

"Just like that," I whisper.

Hideki is the only one that doesn't seem sad, but it's probably because he didn't know Sunny very well. He tries to comfort us but gives up when he realizes he's only making it worse. Laughter only reminds me of Sunny. She was such a good person. Why did she have to die?

"Hey….. where's Hideki?" I ask.

"I think he left," Sabrina murmurs.

"No, he's probably getting more food. Right?" Calico says.

We sit silently for another hour, but Hideki never comes back. Then we huddle together inside the cave. Was Hideki kidnapped? Is Vaska torturing him right now? These thoughts fill my head and I begin to panic.

"A sponsor gift!" Sabrina exclaims. She grabs the wrapped package and hands it to Calico. "It has an eight on it."

We crowd around Calico as she opens the package, revealing a fancy scroll of parchment. Calico reads the swirly lettering out loud. "Beware the not-so-lucky number, buttheads lurk here. What does that mean?"

"It's a riddle," says Sabrina, "Styla must be trying to tell you something."

"Not-so-lucky number? Seven is an unlucky number," I say.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" asks Calico.

"I don't know," I say, perplexed. What's seven got to do with anything? It's just a number. Numbers can't kill us. We need useful gifts, like water or weapons. Unless my father sends them. Then they're useless.

"Wait!" screams Sabrina, "I get it!"

"What?" me and Calico ask in unison.

"HIDEKI!" wails Sabrina.

* * *

 **Hideki Ora (15), District Seven**

The trap is all set. Now I need to suck it up and trigger it. This is completely insane. I'm fifteen years old, and here I am attempting to kill three innocent little girls. My stomach hurts and my hands are clammy, but my arm finds its way over to the rock. Removing this stone will start the trap, hopefully killing them quickly and painlessly.

 _Come on, Hideki. Tributes are_ supposed _to kill. It doesn't make you a bad person. They'd probably do the same to you._

I know I'm only assuring myself. Calico, Sabrina, and Palata would NOT kill me. They're too kind and innocent to do that. I'm killing them in cold blood, which is exactly what the Capitol wants me to do. Complying makes me a murderer.

 _It doesn't matter. Someone will kill them anyways._

Then I think about their families. Calico has loving parents and a sister. Sabrina has a funny twin brother. Palata has a large family that depends on her to be their poster child. Do I really want to do this? They deserve to return home more than me. Am I really selfish enough to snatch their chances of coming home?

Apparently, I am. The rock is removed and the rockslide begins. I jump out of the way as boulder after boulder tumbles down the mountain on a direct path to our cave. My pack contains the remainder of Sabrina's water, as well as the two water jugs we were sponsored this morning. They have no water. Even if they survive the rockslide, they'll die of thirst.

 _It's better this way. At least you're not stabbing them in their sleep._

A cannon sounds and the mountains are silent again. Two of them escaped by sheer luck. No matter. They'll be dead soon.

* * *

 **Sorry for poofing. I'm binge watching the entire Harry Potter series for the millionth time. I'm already on the sixth movie. Plus I just got a new computer, so I'm still figuring out how to set it up.**

 **I'm not telling you who died. Why not build the suspense? :O**

 **Calico's note was written by Silver. There are more pending sponsor gifts that I'm too lazy to include in this chapter.**

 **Also, do you guys think my chapters are too short? A lot of people write much longer POV's, and I noticed mine are pretty small.**

 **1\. Is Frank smart to run away? What do you think of Nolan's sneakiness?**

 **2\. Which girl died? Honestly, it could be any of them. I'm just messing with you cause I'm evil.**


	35. SURPRISE! I'm not dead

**Hello. Yes, I still exist.**

 **I haven't updated because things have been crazy. My grandpa had his surgery that was supposed to remove the cancer, and it did, but it also caused a ton of other problems. He's been in and out of the hospital with pneumonia and last week we found out his esophagus was leaking. For the surgery they cut out part of the esophagus and connected the unattached piece to his stomach, and apparently, the chemotherapy weakened the tissue causing it to leak a week after the surgery. So he's BACK in the hospital and they're trying to get rid of the infection so he'll be strong enough for another surgery.**

 **Every time I try to write, something happens. One time we had to rush to the hospital. Another time my computer suddenly died and I lost all of the chapter.**

 **So yeah. I'm not going to give you false hope, so I'll just tell you that I'll be TRYING to update soon. I'm a freshman in a few days, and being the Procrastination King I am, I saved summer work until the final week before school starts. And I hurt my shins running cross country, so I'm sitting out for two hours, six days a week. Summer has been fun :P.**

 **Adios amigos. Hopefully, I will be back soon.**


	36. Rockslide

**Calico Damask (14), District Eight**

The realization hits me like an electric shock, and soon I'm on my back, gasping and sobbing. My chest tightens and my breath hitches until I can barely breathe at all. The world starts to spin and I hear the deep thumping of my racing heart. Sabrina is shaking me by the shoulders, trying to get me to speak, but my lips feel like rubber.

I've become an animal, obeying its primal instincts to survive at all costs. All logic is gone. My calm mind has dissolved. Nothing matters except getting out of here. I scramble to my feet, leaving my bag of supplies in my haste. Sabrina and Palata scream my name, but I don't hear them.

 _I'm not dying. I'm not dying. I'm NOT dying._

The ceiling begins to tremble. I ignore it, crawling quickly on my hands and knees to get out of the cave. The ceiling trembles even more. I keep crawling. Faster. Faster. Kicking, clawing, pushing Sabrina backward so I can escape first. My own life is all that matters. My nails claw her hair and she screams, biting me on the hand. I kick her in the face, breaking her nose with a clean snap. There's time to be horrified later.

 _I'm not dying. I'm not dying._

Sunlight. I make a leap for it, landing on my chin in the gravel. My limp body tumbles down the slope, gaining speed until I'm sliding down on my back. Shards of rock impale themselves in my wrists and calves, but it doesn't matter. Wounds are superficial. Sabrina and Palata's screams echo out into the mountains, but the animal inside me continues to push forward. I can hear rocks tumbling behind me; I'm not out of danger yet.

Many minutes later, I'm on my hands and knees. I don't know when the rockslide stopped. Blood drips down my wrists and stains my cargo pants. My white tank top is in tatters, and my hair is coated with grit and dust. Even my fingernails have chipped off, leaving sharp stubs that hurt to touch.

 _I'm not dying. I didn't die._

A cannon sounds, and that's when I break down. My sobs echo along the mountainside, but I don't care anymore. The Capital has turned me into a monster. Mom and Dad must be ashamed of what I've become. Rosie, too. We might have all escaped the cave, but I was too selfish. I've _never_ been selfish before. My parents instilled in me at a young age that being kind was the way to a happy life.

 _But you're still alive._

The back of my head tells me I made the right choice, even if I'm too horrified to believe it. I escaped, but barely. If we had all tried to leave at once, we certainly would have been crushed by the rockslide. In the end, one escaping is better than none.

 _Wait… where's the second cannon?_

* * *

 **Sabrina Volta (16), District Five**

What the hell is Calico doing? Palata and I struggle against her flailing limbs, trying in vain to escape the cave. She kicks me in the face, and a shooting pain fires up my skull. She broke my nose. Desperately, I bite her hand and attempt to hold her back, but she's out of the cave in a heartbeat. I fall back, holding my nose and cursing.

"Sabrina!" wails Palata, "Watch out!"

The ceiling begins to buckle, and all I can do is lie there and watch it. We'll never make it to the entrance. Calico has doomed us to die in here. She wasted our precious seconds to escape. I catch Palata's eye, and I see she's made the same realization.

"I don't want to die…" she whispers.

"Be strong," I say, "Don't let his last image of you be a crying little girl. Stay strong for your family."

I realize after I spoke those words that they were meant for me, too. I can only imagine what Martin and my parents are thinking right now. We all knew I'd die, but I didn't even make it to the top twelve. Some part of me was still hoping I'd win. I think everybody is hoping that, deep down, no matter how hopeless they appear on the outside. But in reality, only one person will have their prayers answered. And that person is not me.

"See you on the other side," says Palata.

"Maybe we'll see Sunny," I reply.

 _Good luck, Calico. You outlived us all._

The ceiling crashes down, and I feel a large slab of rock impale me through the chest. I cry out, but my voice is soon cut off by a stone slamming into my throat. Heart beating, nose sniffling, I wait for death.

I don't have to wait long.

* * *

 **Venus Albryte (14), District Six**

"We need to keep moving," Vaska snarls, picking up his bag and knives.

"Why?" I ask, "We're safe here. We can hide out until the Careers pick off a few more threats."

If there's one thing I've learned from spending three days with Vaska, it's that he's impatient. This is the fourth time he's packed up and decided to leave, and every time I manage to talk him out of it. My shoulder is still bruised badly from the fight with Darren, so I'd rather not travel unless we have to. Unfortunately, I haven't received any sponsors. Vaska likes to joke that he's the District Six favorite this year, which is probably true. That can't protect him from dying, though.

I considered killing him last night, but then I remembered the fight with Darren and his ally. They were about to kill me, and it was Vaska's good hearing that saved me. Darren's weapon was inches away from my heart. I'm smart and decent at fighting, but it's clear that I'm no good at fighting two opponents at once.

 _Just a few more days. Then you can kill him._

This time Vaska seems determined to leave, so I begrudgingly agree. The sun is starting to go down, which means the scorpion mutts will be out, but he doesn't care. Vaska seems to think he's invincible. It doesn't matter to me. I don't need to outrun the scorpions, I just need to outrun Vaska.

Vaska leads the way down the mountain. He says we're looking for weaker tributes that might be hiding between the rocks. I try to tell him that weak tributes would have climbed as high as possible, but he doesn't listen to reason. With each step, I become more and more concerned. If we run into the Careers, we're toast. Vaska's torture knives are for close range, and although my knife is light enough to be thrown, it'll leave me defenseless. Finally, I put my foot down.

"Vaska. Let's stop for a water break."

"No. We need to reach the bottom by nightfall."

" _Vaska._ I need water."

He whips around, teeth bared. "You insufferable brat! I'm not falling for your mind games. You listen to me, or you leave. And trust me, you will receive NO mercy if I find you again. Is that clear?"

"Crystal," I hiss.

Since we definitely weren't taking a break anytime soon, I decide to put Vaska's rope to good use. As we walk, I rub two stones against my knife until they're razor sharp. Then I tie one end of the rope around the pieces of rock. I give the rope a test swing, and sure enough, the knot holds. With a grunt, I swing hard on the weapon, slamming the rocks into a shrub.

Now I have another weapon.

* * *

 **Kiara Wong (16), District Two**

"Do you think that was Frank?" asks Jules. She looks questioningly at Nolan, who shrugs.

"Hope so. It's probably one of the alliance girls. They lost the Twelve girl, so they're probably hurting right now."

I still don't understand how they can talk so calmly about death. I don't want Frank _or_ one of the girls to be dead. I don't even want Nolan to be dead. Seeing so much death the past few days has really scared me and knowing that I could be next only amplifies the fear. My angle is dissolving faster and faster each day, and soon the others are going to realize I'm panicking. I can't make myself an even bigger target.

The anthem plays, a sound I'm growing used to. A lot of tributes died the first day, and only Moira died on the second day. Tonight there are three faces in the sky. Sabrina, Darren, and Sunny. Only fourteen tributes left. I try not to think about the ten tributes that have died.

"Hey, six more and we're at the final eight," says Cendko, giving me a friendly nudge. He's been talking to me every day, trying to keep my head screwed on straight. It's nice to have a friend here, even if he'll probably be dead soon. Or maybe I'll die first. Does it really matter, in the end? The order doesn't matter much. Dead is dead.

 _Kimora… are you watching right now? I hope not._

I don't want my sister to see me like this. She's already seen me cut off a boy's arm. Kimora practically _faints_ at the sight of blood. And my poor parents…. I've turned into a completely different person. They probably expected me to sob my eyes out, but instead, I'm battle-hardened and emotionless. On the outside, at least. On the inside, I feel like someone took a hammer and slammed me in the gut. Every second could be my last.

"Tonight we'll stay here," says Nolan, "Most of the tributes are running out of water. Let's let nature take its course."

"But the Capitol wants action," says Jules.

"They've seen enough," Lusi says dejectedly, picking salt off of her shirt. She's been really grumpy ever since Frank left.

"At least he's alive," I whisper to Lusi, in an attempt to be comforting. I think it worked, because she shot me a grateful glance. I can't imagine how I'd feel if Cendko abandoned me. He'd never do that. Or would he? Nothing's the same now that we're in the arena.

I don't know anything anymore.

* * *

 **SABRINA VOLTA-** Palata Browns

She died right in front of me. First, she was there, telling me to stay strong. Then she was a pool of blood and guts. For some reason, fate decided to spare my life. I'm trapped in a pocket of air under the rubble. Although I can't see the sky, I mourn for my companion when the anthem plays.

* * *

 **DARREN WHITAKER-** Matt Sickle

I'm safely tucked in a cave system, all thanks to Darren. Without my loyal ally, I wouldn't have been able to save Avery. We'd both be dead. I owe him my life, and I silently vow to shower his girlfriend with riches when I win. Now she's the protector of Darren's siblings, the kids who lost both parents and their eldest brother. They have to grow up all alone.

* * *

 **SUNNY COLE-** Calico Damask

It's crazy how much things can change in twenty-four hours. Sunny died, Hideki betrayed us, and now Sabrina is dead. And Palata and I are separated. I'm glad Sunny died before all this happened because she was too gentle to deal with betrayal. Now she can rest in eternal peace.

* * *

 **Sorry for disappearing. My grandpa passed away, high school started, and writing was on the bottom of my priority list. I'll try to update weekly from now on, maybe faster if I have the time.**


	37. Tentacle

**So much for weekly updates.**

 **15th place: Sabrina Volta (crushed by rockslide): Sorry, forgot to do her eulogy last chapter. Sabrina kind of got screwed. I know I keep saying this, but she got the most screwed. The plot with Hideki had to go somewhere, and she just happened to be the girl I chose to kill. Mostly I killed her because Calico and Palata have a lot of development coming that I didn't want to cut off. Sorry BubblesOfTheNine for killing her. Maybe you'll finally have luck with a D5F some day ;)**

* * *

 **Mack Davis, Victor of the 76th Hunger Games**

I never expected very much from Gordon. He had a good heart, but it wasn't enough to save him from the Capitol. Maybe District Twelve will get another victor someday.

* * *

 **Coal Wiseman, Victor of the 78th Hunger Games**

Sunny and I both knew she was doomed from the start. Tributes like her never last more than a few days. I'm just glad Sunny died feeling beautiful. The Capitol sucks, but at least they made an insecure girl happy before she died. That's more than I could ever ask.

* * *

 **DISTRICT TWELVE**

We're the third district eliminated. None of us expected a good year, but it's still crushing to lose two more of our children. Gordon was well known in the district, and it never felt the same without him. Something died in Mayor Matthew when he watched his son die on television, and Gordon's story is a reminder that anyone can be picked for the Hunger Games. The Capitol doesn't care what your social status is. Sunny's family grieved in private, but one boy knocked on their door to offer his condolences after the funeral. And that boy was Drew Johnson.

* * *

 **Ivy de Lima (16), District Seven**

Day four begins just like days two and three. I uncurl my body and crawl out of my rock structure. Grunting, I pull myself to the top where I gaze out at the salt flat, taking small sips of water and nibbling on some jerky. The Games aren't as bad as I thought they'd be. I've survived three days on this rock, and so far nothing has challenged me. Even the Careers head to the mountains every night instead of wandering the flats.

It's kind of hilarious. Almost all the tributes headed to the mountains, fearing the openness of the salt flat. And here I am, evading detection and living off sponsor gifts. I envisioned the Games as a bloody deathmatch, where I'd constantly be looking over my shoulder and fighting the Careers. But really… I'm starting to get used to it. Ten tributes have died and I've done nothing except stare at the sunrise. Nine more cannons and I get to go home.

Maybe Jessica was right. I do stand a chance. I can do this.

Part of my morning schedule is assessing the remaining supplies. My water canteen is about two-thirds empty after a day and a half. And I haven't received any more gifts since then. By day four of the Games, sponsor prices begin to spike exponentially. I can't depend on my sponsors to give me resources anymore.

There's just one problem. I can see for miles, and there's zero sign of a lake or pond. I'm safe for now, in the shade of my rock, but once I'm out in the sun I'll burn to a crisp. Either the Gamemakers want us to die of thirst, which doesn't seem likely, or there's water on the mountain. Which would explain why most of the tributes are still there. Maybe the Careers go there every night to fill their canteens, and here I am slowly shriveling like a grape.

But should I really leave this place? It's pretty safe here…

That's what the Gamemakers want me to think. They're trying to get me comfortable so I'll let my guard down. Nobody wins by chilling under a rock. Jessica didn't win by chilling under a rock. It's time to leave before the Gamemakers make me leave.

I can see the Cornucopia from here, and the Careers are still safely tucked in the shade. The mouth of the horn is pointing towards the mountain, so leaving right now would be suicide. I'll have to leave under the cover of darkness. That gives me all day to come up with a plan to find water, or all of this will have been for nothing.

* * *

 **Frank Tides (18), District Four**

Last night gave me the closure I desperately needed. Seeing Sunny's face in the sky made me realize that I hated killing. The Careers took her life, and I watched without doing anything to help her. It's sickening to think that her parents are probably cursing my name. I'm just not that type of person, and I'm sick of trying to be someone I'm not.

Leaving Lusi was crushing, but necessary in the grand scheme of things. We can't both win, so it's good that I left before we got too attached. Besides, I don't need to worry about her. Lusi is strong and independent. Nobody will mess with her.

"Shit," I mutter, giving my supplies a glance. Nolan must have emptied my pack.

That was smart. But bad for me.

Finding water is now my top priority. There's just one problem. Nolan took out my canteen, so I have nothing to carry the water in. But I do have a backpack which should do the trick. I spend the morning in the shade, ripping chunks of fabric off of my backpack and slowly weaving them into a waterskin. I stand back, admiring my handiwork. Sienna was always good at weaving, so I guess I can thank her for this.

Sienna…

Thinking of my beautiful girlfriend only brings tears to my eyes. I promised myself I'd see her again, and I intend to keep that promise. I just hope Jason can keep her strong until I get back. Assuming my brother is able to keep his composure.

One thing's for sure; the Capitol is sure to be getting bored. It's day four and only ten tributes have died. I know for a fact that the Careers have done next to nothing. Things are about to get crazy, and fast. The Gamemakers will probably give us today to prepare, but unless something drastic happens, all hell will break loose.

* * *

 **Cendko Pillars (18), District Two**

"Wait, what?" Jules shouts.

"We leave now," snarls Nolan.

"But it's broad daylight!" Lusi exclaims.

Kiara and I exchange an exasperated look. Arguing is all we ever do. Seriously, it's like Districts One and Four put up a bunch of toddlers this year. Nolan and Jules are practically at each other's throats every second of the day, and Lusi can't go one minute without nosing her way into everyone's business. I hate being the peacemaker.

"Shut up, all of you," I say, "Nolan is right. We haven't done anything. If we don't leave now and cause some action, the Gamemakers will put an end to us."

"And we have plenty of water," squeaks Kiara, "And sunscreen. It's no problem if we leave during the day. In fact, most of the tributes will probably be asleep."

"She makes a valid point," Jules says with some hesitation, "But Nolan is staying this time. I want to patrol without him breathing down my back."

"I do NOT breathe down your back!" Nolan yells.

Here we go again…

After some more arguing, Nolan decides that Jules, Lusi, and I will hunt in the mountains. Once we arrive tonight, he and Kiara will check out the flats. I'm a little worried about leaving Kiara with Nolan, but she's proven that she can take care of herself. I trust that she'll keep him in line.

We pack enough food and water to last us the day. Nolan says we should bring our sleeping bags as well, in case we get stuck in the mountains. Jules is being even more insufferable now that she's in charge, but I know that biding my time is important. The Career breakup will happen sooner or later, and Kiara and I can finally ditch them.

Wait. Kiara and I? What is happening to me? Since when was Kiara part of my Games strategy? Maybe I'm more attached to her than I thought.

"Do you need me to carry your bag?" Lusi asks, giving me a sympathetic look. She stares at my stub arm, reaching out to take some of the load from me. My eyes narrow. Why do people always assume that I can't work as hard as everyone else? The Academy teachers thought the same thing, and it pisses me off.

"Stop pitying me," I growl, "Or it'll be the last thing you do."

Lusi looks shocked but retracts her hand. Once Jules is ready, we start trudging toward the mountain.

* * *

 **Tessa Avery (18), District Nine**

"Yes!" I exclaim. I knew there had to be water somewhere in the caves. The Gamemakers wouldn't allow tributes to count on sponsor gifts alone. I have no canteen or iodine tablets, so I drink the water directly from the underground lake. Hopefully, I'm not going to die of poison or a parasite.

Once I'm done drinking, I strip off my soiled clothing and step into the lake. The salt has made my skin itchy and dry, to the point where I'm bleeding everywhere. If I don't wash out the sores they'll get infected. And the sponsors haven't been very generous to me so far.

I have been a bitch. Why would anyone sponsor me?

The Games have been a time for self-reflection. I'm still trying to wrap my head around the whole Matt situation, but I'm still just as confused as before. Why in the world would he save me of all people? I'm the girl who terrorized him in the Capitol and tried to kill him seconds into the bloodbath. And we just so happen to be leaders of rival gangs back home. There's absolutely no plausible reason for him to want to save me.

It doesn't matter why. You should be grateful to be alive.

But I'm not going to be alive much longer. Something slimy and disgusting wraps around my foot and drags me underwater. Before I can react, it snaps my leg in half like a toothpick. I scream, which lets out all the air in my lungs.

I need my scorpion stinger. With every ounce of my remaining energy, I claw my way to the surface. The tentacle continues to drag me backward, but I'm gaining ground. My stinger is at the edge of the water. If I can just reach it…

The creature pulls me back underwater, but this time I hold my breath. In the murky depths of the lake, I can see the outline of a giant squid. It's razor sharp fangs are snapping at my dangling broken leg, but I refuse to be eaten by a mutt. This is not how Avery will go down. I punch the squid's face repeatedly until I feel it's grip starting to loosen. Thirty seconds pass. A minute. My pounds are getting weaker and my lungs are aching for air.

Is this it? Will I never get to see Matt again?

Black spots start to dance across my vision. I see the scorpion stinger taunting me from above. I'll never make it there. This time the Blue gang lost.

I let out one final scream, pushing and clawing for freedom. But the squid sinks its fangs into my torso and goes to town on my limp body. I don't stay awake for much longer.

* * *

 **14th place: Tessa Avery (eaten by squid mutt): I was really close to letting Avery live, but I decided to push the story along and kill her. Avery already went through all the development I had planned for her, so there was no reason to keep her around any longer. I love the story behind Avery and Matt, even if it was complex and hard to follow for some people. I always intended for Matt to make it further. Avery was feisty and fought until the end, and in another story, she might have done a lot better. Thanks goldie for submitting such a great tribute.**

 **(P.S. The site won't let me upload a new doc. So I'm using LCS's strategy and editing old docs to post chapters from.)**


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